Stones Unturned
by ReginaSong
Summary: Dean's fresh back from Hell and Sam's keeping a dangerous secret... a bad time for a run-of-the-mill hunt to go sideways. (Canon-based hunt set in early season 4. Angst, hurt!Winchesters, and friendship).
1. Prologue & Ch 1 - Worth Checking Out?

**Full Summary****:**

SET IN EARLY SEASON FOUR: Dean is still struggling to deal with the aftermath of his recent trip to Hell, hiding his pain as best he can from his younger brother. Sam is keeping a dangerous secret of his own, terrified of what the ugly truth could do to their already-strained relationship. Then the brothers take on what appears to be a routine hunt and things take a turn for the worse, pitting them against a supernatural being unlike any they have faced before. Now, their grim perseverance and undying loyalty to each other may be the only things that keep them alive. Male & female OC's present but this is still a Sam & Dean story (not a romance).

Hurt!Dean, Hurt!Sam, Angsty!Winchesters

**Author's Note:**

_This is a (repost) multi-chap story that was written a while ago (the summer between seasons 3 & 4) that I took down a while ago, reworked, and am re-posting. __It is set-up much like a real episode with a short teaser before it jumps to Sam and Dean. I'll be posting every day or two._

**Disclaimer**: _I own nothing to do with Supernatural except my obsession :-)_

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**Prologue**

_July 2001_

"This will work, Lexie, trust me. We can do this."

The young man clasped the girl's shoulders, his blue eyes locked on her frightened ones. His voice was steady but she wasn't sure which one of them he was trying to convince more. He brought his forehead down to rest lightly against hers and took one slow, deep breath before letting her go and walking to the center of the room. He stepped carefully into a large circle of salt that had been placed where the living room carpet had been rolled up. Turning back, he held his hand out to her.

"You ready?" he asked, an encouraging smile spreading across his face.

Lexie felt anything but ready for this. She was more than a little tense as she stood leaning against the wall clutching an old hardcover book but she nodded bravely and moved towards him. She took his hand and stepped gingerly inside the salt circle with him.

"Okay," he directed, taking the well-worn book from her hands and opening it to a bookmarked page. "I start reading and you let me know the second he gets here, got it?"

She could feel him studying her, searching for some reassurance that she was up for this and she gave him a weak smile.

Taking her hand once more, he grinned down at her. "You know I love you right?"

His statement had the desired effect. She rolled her eyes and took a playful swat at his shoulder. "Jesus Josh, you are such a girl sometimes," she scoffed. "Let's send this demon to Hell before you start singing love songs," she added, summoning every scrap of courage and determination she could find within herself.

Josh let go of her hand, winked at her, and proceeded to recite Latin from the book. He read loudly, as if to an imaginary audience in the empty room. After only a couple of minutes, Lexie could sense a familiar presence in the room, one with a distinctly dark and sinister aura.

"He's here," she announced in a barely audible whisper. She couldn't actually see it yet, but she knew from experience that the shadowy creature they had recently decided was a demon would make an appearance very soon.

She gasped as she felt a cold, light breeze brush her cheek. Josh looked up warily and his eyes darted back and forth as if searching for something but he continued reading the Latin text.

Lexie was breathing heavily as she took a step closer to him, leaning her shoulder against his arm for comfort. "He's here; he's closer," she whispered urgently. "Josh, are you sure he can't get in the circle?"

"He can't," Josh assured her, though the slight waver in his voice hinted he was having more than a few doubts himself. "Look, the summoning part is working, isn't it? He's coming, even though I'm here." Lexie had experienced this much with him before, but so far the demon had never shown itself unless she had been alone.

"You can sense him so any minute now you'll see him," he added, rationalizing their plan so far. "We'll get him." He went back to reading from the book in his hands. "Exorior quod ostendo vestri verus vultus..."

"He's by the kitchen door!" she whispered suddenly, a hint of panic in her voice.

She saw Josh glance warily toward the kitchen, but his eyes scanned right past the dark figure, clearly unable to see it. Lexie tightened her grip on his arm, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Now for the second part to exorcise him then," Josh said quietly as he flipped to another page in the book and began reading a different Latin verse. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..."

Five words into the new verse, Lexie screamed as the familiar, shadowy form charged towards them, completely unhindered by the salt circle. It moved fast and slammed its fists into Josh's chest. The young man was sent flying through the air towards the heavy oak front door of the house.

The deep whispery voice of the dark creature now standing beside the girl exploded into a loud and malevolent laugh, almost drowning out the dull, sickening thud of Josh's head hitting the door. _Almost._

Then it was upon her. She felt a cold hand of steel wrap its fingers around her neck, lifting her feet off the ground. It was shaking her now, seeming to take a disturbing amount of pleasure in her inability to scream.

"You should not have done that, dearie," it whispered calmly, a sinister grin spreading across its shadowy face and its reddish eyes narrowing. It pulled her face right up to its own, red eyes glaring into hers. "I am very angry with you."

From nowhere, a strong wind suddenly began blowing, like a mini tornado in the room. It got stronger and stronger, lifting books from the shelves and ornaments from the mantle and sending them spinning around in the air. Just as Lexie's vision started to blur from lack of oxygen, it loosened its choking grip on her throat, lowering her so her feet touched the ground. She struggled to simultaneously break free of its grip, suck in a breath, and find enough strength in her legs to run but the creature still had complete control. It spun her around, wrapping an incredibly strong arm around her throat from behind and bringing its face right up to her ear. "Now what should I do for punishment, I wonder?" it asked, menacingly, as it tightened its grip, cutting off her oxygen supply again.

Suddenly she heard another voice and a noise at the front door. _Josh?_ Lexie thought, desperately. _He's alive! Please let him be alive!_

But it wasn't Josh; it was her parents. They had come home early. A new wave of panic swept through her as she heard her father's voice and the key in the door lock. The shadowy figure behind her looked up sharply, a slow grin spreading across its face. "Perfect," it purred.

Lexie couldn't scream, couldn't warn them, couldn't even breathe. She was pinned helplessly, her face held towards the door, the shadow figure of her nightmares breathing its foul breath in her ear. The last thing she saw before the world went black was the front door opening, Josh lying deathly still on the floor before it and the last thing she heard was the familiar sound of her mother's infectious laugh singing in time with the wind chimes on the front porch.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**Chapter 1 - Worth Checking Out?**_

_October 2008_

"How about this one?" Sam called out to his brother, who had just returned from the bar to the motel room they shared on the outskirts of Grant, Nebraska and was filling his glass from the bathroom sink. "An elderly lady was seen climbing the steps to the roof of her retirement home near Tulsa where she jumped off, killing herself." Ignoring Dean's dismissive snort, he continued. "Turns out she had been in a wheelchair for over twenty years."

Dean snorted again, gulping his water down before flopping on his bed. It was his magical, foolproof method for avoiding a hangover, one he had been putting to good use in the last four weeks.

Sam was desperate to find a hunt, anything to keep his brother occupied and out of the bar for a couple of days. They had finished up the job they had been working on that afternoon and Sam had cursed himself for not having another already lined up. Dean was better than he had been when he had first come back from Hell, but he was still nowhere near his old self. Sam saw glimpses of the pre-Hell Dean here and there, but was fairly certain most of them were forced, part of Dean's skillfully built façade that was being repaired faster than the tortured soul it was meant to cover-up.

The younger Winchester kept trying. "No, seriously Dean, listen. One week before that, an eighty-seven year old man in the same home who was supposed to be bedridden drowned in the pool."

Dean sighed. "Sammy," he said, shaking his head. "We're not going to Hotel White-Hair because someone threw an old geyser in the pool!"

"Why the hell not?" Sam pouted, getting exasperated. "It does sound like our type of gig."

Dean snorted again, rolling over and turning away from his brother who had been sitting at the table at his laptop for three hours now, leaving Dean alone in the bar hustling pool. "'Cause it's a job for amateurs, Sam, and we ain't amateurs."

Sam huffed in frustration but kept trying. He had wanted to find a job that didn't involve demons but had run out of suggestions. He thought his big brother had definitely had enough of demons, at least for a while. Dean needed a break. Sam couldn't pretend he didn't know about the recent nightmares he suspected were flashbacks of Hell. Dean had woken up screaming on more than one occasion. Sam had experienced his share of nightmares after Jess died but Dean's were on a whole new scale. Every time Sam tried to talk to him about it, Dean would just make some witty remark and change the subject.

_Well, at least some things hadn't changed._

Lillith's trail had gone cold, at least for the time being. Sam was admittedly slightly relieved for this fact, thankful for the small respite from the madness of the 'big war' and his drive for revenge, however brief it would turn out to be. He had one more potential job on his list but suspected it may involve some sort of demon or demons and hadn't wanted to suggest it. But Dean wanted to keep busy, anything to think about except where he had been and what he had been through, and Sam couldn't begrudge him that.

"Okay, this next one is definitely in our league," he conceded. "Three strange murders in a small town in Indiana called Borne."

"Mm-hmm" was Dean's mumbled reply, indicating that he was listening, but barely, and had no real interest in what Sam was saying.

"The first was a man, Blake Lunden, who was found stripped naked and pinned to a wall with a fire poker through the, uhh, the groin." Sam shifted in his seat, pressing his thighs together, the universally instinctive reaction of all men to hearing of any groin-related injury.

Dean turned his head to look at his brother, a disgusted look on his face. "Dude," he snickered, "that's nasty."

Encouraged, Sam kept reading from his notes. "Within a few days, a Patricia Waldor was found on the highway after crashing her BMW and, get this, cause of death was asphyxiation from hundred dollar bills that were stuffed down her throat."

Dean was now leaning up with his hands behind his head, elbows on his pillows. "And the third?"

"This one's the kicker. A high school kid, Milton Redgrove, was found dead at his school. He'd been beaten and skewered on the top of the school flagpole with his pants around his ankles." Sam looked up at his brother, who winced. "What do you think? Worth checking out? I know there's some disturbed people in the world, but this sounds too twisted to be anything non-supernatural."

"Yep, sounds like demon sense of humour to me," Dean conceded. "We'll leave in the morning." The decision made, Dean rolled over and switched his bedside light off, breathing out a ragged sigh that Sam couldn't help deciphering as a silent prayer to whatever powers that be that enough alcohol had been consumed to ward off the terrors his big brother was too often finding waiting for him on the flip side of his consciousness.

"G'night Dean," he murmured under his breath, hoping for the same.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**_TBC..._**


	2. We're Not Going to be Watching Porn

_Early season 4..._

_**Chapter 2**_** - We're Not Going to be Watching Porn**

The Impala roared into the small town, pulling in at the first motel they passed, the Celtic Lodge and Cabins. Dean drove slowly past the diner to the motel door marked 'office' before stopping. Sam opened the passenger door and was getting out when he glanced back at Dean, who had settled back into his seat and was staring down the row of motel doors.

"You comin'?" Sam asked him, curiously.

"Your turn," Dean waved him off. "Besides," he added with a grin, "I'm enjoying the view."

Sam stood up and glanced over the car to see what his brother was referring to. Down at the end of the row of burgundy motel doors, was a blonde, mid-twenties and quite attractive, at least from this distance. She was hauling a bag out of the trunk of a blue Bronco that had been backed up to the last door. Sam shook his head, amazed at how his brother could spend four months in Hell and still have women on the brain at least eighty percent of the time. Of course, it seemed the weight on his shoulders the other twenty percent had increased tenfold, so maybe a little harmless ogling wasn't such a bad thing.

"I'll try to get one of the cabins," he said, leaning in the window so Dean could hear him. "A bit more privacy." And usually a rear window, which often came in handy as a secondary exit from the room in their line of work.

Dean didn't turn back to face his brother. "Sure, whatever you want," came the non-attentive reply.

Sam stepped inside the small check-in office and smiled at the clerk. "You got any cabins available?" he asked.

The clerk was in his late teens, almost Sam's size but lacking any of the Winchester's handsome features. His ruddy face looked past the hunter out the door. "That your car out there, dude? Sweet!"

Sam smiled; he was used to getting remarks about the Impala. "Ahh, it's my brother's actually." He pulled his wallet out and leaned on the counter, hoping to get right to business.

The clerk gave him a sly grin, nodding his head slowly. "Bet he gets some major ass with a car like that."

"Yeah, she's a real chick-magnet," Sam conceded, checking out the kid's name tag. "Anyway... Brody, got any cabins? With two beds," he added.

"Oh, yeah, sure mister." Brody's attention was brought back to Sam and he pulled open the motel's registrar book, running his finger down the page. "One left. Cabin four, round back, $89.99 a night."

Sam raised his eyebrows at the price. Sure it was a cabin rather than the usual motel room, but the Celtic Lodge and Cabins was far from classy accommodations.

Brody shrugged, "It's the middle of the Gaelic Games Festival; we're almost full house," he defended. "Besides, our diner's open twenty-four hours; the Cairn Lodge doesn't even have a diner." He gave a slight sneer as he spoke the name of the motel's competition. "And we have a wicked bar just down the road."

Sam wasn't thrilled about Brody's last selling point - Dean really didn't need a bar in that close proximity - but the cabin sounded good. He tossed down a credit card on the counter. "A week, please."

Brody slid him a form to fill out while he took an imprint of the card. "Dude, you want the porn channel unlocked?"

Sam shook his head, "Nah, I'm good."

"You sure? Only $9.95, all you can watch."

Sam didn't look up from the form he was filling out. "I'm staying with my brother, man; we're not going to be watching porn."

Brody rolled his eyes. "Whatever dude, suit yourself." He handed Sam two keys and the credit card back. "See ya around Mr. Hetfield". Sam flashed him a quick smile before heading back outside. Why he continued to let Dean handle the credit card scams escaped him. Seriously, Jim Hetfield? His brother was a sharp, cunning guy who could pull a con on the crew from _Leverage_, but Sam was sure Dean's insistence on using the well-known names of his classic rock heroes was bound to bite them both in the ass one of these days.

Dean was leaning his head back with his eyes closed when Sam got back to the car. Sam knew his brother hadn't been getting much sleep at nights and must be exhausted with the latest twenty hour drive on top of that. They pulled around the back to Cabin 4, which turned out to be surprisingly nice inside, at least according to the Winchester low standards of roadside accommodations. The tartan bedspreads were a bit tacky but tolerable. Better than the singing trout the last motel had mounted on the wall.

"The high school kid's wake is at two pm according to the obit. We should head right out if we want to catch it," Sam suggested, throwing his duffel on the bed closest to the door before Dean could get to it. He pretended not to notice his brother's sharp glare at the small defeat before Dean settled for the bed in the back. Dean had always tried to claim the bed closest to the door at every motel they stayed at; he had been doing it for years. It wasn't until recently that Sam had caught on to the trend. He figured it was Dean being protective, putting himself between Sam and any possible threat, which would most likely come from the direction of the door. Dean wouldn't admit to it though, which is why if Sam got the first bed before him, he grumbled but didn't argue.

They quickly changed and headed out to do some recon at Milton Redgrove's wake, which was being held at the student's house, a Cape Cod in a relatively nice neighborhood. They were greeted at the door by a man in his late forties who smiled and let them in. "How did you know Milton?" he asked, curiously, eyeing the brothers up. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, we're from Fort Wayne, actually," Sam lied with ease. "I go to Indiana Tech and I met Milton there earlier this summer at the orientation camp. My brother and I," he indicated Dean, who was already moving off to fish around by himself as they could cover more ground if they split up, "were just passing through and I read the obituary." He gave his best Sammy sympathetic look, which was naturally bought hook, line, and sinker. "And you are?" he asked the man.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Milt's uncle, John Redgrove," he smiled shaking Sam's hand.

"Well, I'm sorry for your loss, John. It must be really hard on his parents, what with the way he died and all."

"Oh, you have no idea, it's been horrible, the whole town's shocked," John agreed.

"Do they have any idea who did it?" Sam fished.

"No, nothing. Granted," John lowered his voice and leaned in to Sam, "Milt wasn't the sweetest kid on the block, but he was a normal teenager with a bright future ahead of him. Hell, he was going to Indiana Tech in the fall with a football scholarship! And now some psycho killer does this, and the kid's dreams are gone, just like that," he snapped his fingers to emphasize his point. His words were slightly slurred and Sam suspected the kid's uncle had been hitting the bottle. _Whatever helps you deal, man_, he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Dean had been scanning the room, looking for someone he thought might score him some useful information. He could read people well and, despite the fact that he couldn't share his own feelings with others any better than Roseanne Barr could pole dance, he could generally get a pretty good grasp on what others were feeling. He wolfed down a couple of sandwiches, wondering why they always tasted better cut into small triangles, when he spotted a rather nerdy-looking teenager sitting by himself on a swing in the yard. It was odd, he realized looking around, that for the wake of a high school kid, there were hardly any teenagers here. He headed out the back door, three stuffed pastries in his hand.

"Hey," he greeted the teen, leaning up against the tree the swing was on.

The boy looked up at him warily. "Hey," he replied.

"Man, I hate funerals, but the food rocks," Dean quipped, hoping for the right reaction. He got it.

The kid snorted a half-laugh, opening the door for the next question.

"So are you a friend of Milton's?" Dean asked.

The kid snorted again. "No," he scuffed his feet on the ground beneath the swing. "My Mom made me come. I _so_ didn't want to be here. Who are you?"

"My brother met the kid a couple of months ago, thought it would be polite to stop in. I never even met the guy. I take it you two didn't get along then?" Dean pressed. "Why was that?"

The boy looked up at Dean, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses back up onto his nose. "He was a jack-ass," he announced. "He was the biggest bully in the school, we're all glad he's dead."

"We?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, me and all my friends. Milt used to torture us, make every day at school a living hell."

_I doubt that_, Dean thought wryly. _Unpleasant, maybe. But not Hell_.

"Last month, he pants'd my friend Stephen and tied him to the flagpole, the same flagpole they found…" he let his sentence trail off, his tirade ending with the horrible reality of the bully's fate. "Milt got what he deserved," he finished meekly.

That was an interesting coincidence. In his line of work, Dean didn't believe in coincidences. "Man, that had to suck." The hunter feigned sympathy. "Did Milton get in trouble for it?"

The boy shook his head. "Stephen told his Mom he didn't know who did it, that they wore masks and that it must have just been some stupid initiation for the Political Science Club."

"I used to get picked on when I was in school," Dean lied. Well, a partial lie. He got picked on at almost every new school he went to, but it only ever happened once in each town. He had been a tough kid and one fight was usually all he needed to get the local tough guys to back off. Sam had always had a much harder time with bullies, despite his size, because of his super-high grades and quieter demeanor. But then again, Dean had usually taken care of those guys too.

The boy looked at him doubtfully and Dean snickered, realizing it wasn't the most believable story he had ever told. Still, there was a chance a human had conjured up some supernatural being to do their dirty work and he needed an angle, so he continued.

"No, seriously little guy, I wasn't always this handsome," he quipped. "I used to come home and make up spells and shit trying to find some way of puttin' it to the bullies."

The boy laughed, shaking his head. "That's so lame. You were worse than Stephen."

"Oh yeah?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "What does Stephen do?"

"Nothing. He just says some weird stuff, that's all."

Dean would have liked to keep digging, interested in this Stephen kid, but they were interrupted by a woman coming out the back door.

"Troy!" she scolded. "What are you doing out here? You are being rude!" She grabbed his hand, sending a quick, apologetic smile Dean's way before dragging the reluctant teen with rolling eyes back towards the crowd inside. Dean sighed and enjoyed the quiet of the garden for a moment, wolfing his last pastry down before heading in to see if Sam had dug up anything interesting.

Sam hadn't. Some talk of a crazed serial killer but even that was all gossip based on information the hunters already had. They stayed another ten minutes before heading out. Back in the Impala, Dean shared the information he had acquired from Troy.

"So Milton was a bully," Sam repeated. "I can see the kids he picked on sending something supernatural after him," he said, nodding slowly in understanding.

"I don't know," Dean said doubtfully. "That Troy kid was a total geekboy, worse than you even," he grinned at his little brother. "He was all talk; I don't think he has it in him."

"Kids can snap, you know," Sam disagreed, ignoring the geek comment. "A kid gets bullied for years, even a nice kid, and I think he could do all sorts of hurtful things.,"

"You got bullied and picked on," Dean pointed out. "You turned out okay. Well," he snorted, "you never skewered any of your classmates, anyway."

"Yeah, but Dean, most kids aren't as lucky as I was," Sam said absently, flipping through his notebook. "They don't have you as a big brother to look out for them." He hadn't meant his comment to sound so gushing, it had just sort of come out that way. He sensed more than saw Dean stiffen slightly behind the wheel. These days, praises and compliments came in on the older brother's wish list just behind '_prostate exam_' and '_new Justin Timberlake album_'.

"Well, I think we should check out this Stephen kid," Dean deflected. "He's probably a much more likely suspect since he was the one run up the flagpole." _If he had looked out for Sammy, his little brother wouldn't have died. _Dean had always tried to protect and shelter Sam, wanted nothing more in the world than to make things all right for his baby brother, but somehow he just kept screwing it up. And the way he saw it, Sam kept paying the price.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "but we have to find out who he is first. There could be a few Stephens in the high school."

"Well, let's go see the husband of the money-chick then," Dean suggested. "We can do the fed gig; we're already in the damn suits."

Sam nodded his agreement, reaching for the box of fake ID's tucked up under the dash.

"So, what do we know about her? Patricia…" Dean asked.

"Patricia Waldor," Sam supplied, turning the page in his notebook to go over his scribbled notes. "Survived by husband, Kevin Waldor, though they were separated," he read. "His address is 180 Clover Street."

SPN-SPN-SPN

Dean's loud knock on the door was answered quickly by a small, balding man in his early forties with a kind face and a twitchy demeanor. He raised his eyebrows at the two young men in suits on his porch but pulled his door wide open.

"Can I help you?" he greeted them.

"Yes sir, are you Kevin Waldor?" Sam asked politely.

"Yes." The man suddenly narrowed his eyes, looking suspiciously at Sam then Dean then back to Sam. "Are you _her_ lawyers?" he asked.

Sam smiled and shook his head. "No sir, we're detectives with the State Police." The hunters held up their fake badges in practiced unison. "I'm Detective Taylor and this is my partner, Detective Kilmister. We'd like to speak to you about your late wife."

The man's shoulders relaxed and he stepped aside. "Oh, sure, come in, come in."

Dean stepped in first, giving the man a smile and a nod as he passed. The door entered onto the large and rather empty living room which looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks. There were take-out containers and empty liquor bottles littering the coffee table and the floor. Stains and crumbs were everywhere on the plush white carpet. There was a pillow and blanket heaped in a messy pile at one end of the tattered couch. Dean got the feeling the little guy didn't make much use of the rest of the house. He started moving slowly but casually around the room, looking for anything of interest to their hunt.

Sam moved into the living room, flipping open his notebook as he turned to Kevin to start the questioning. It was an act the brothers had pulled more times than they could count, so many that it was almost instinctive; there was no need to discuss the gameplan ahead of time for these routine recon interviews. One would ask the questions, keeping the attention of the mark, while the other would snoop around, surreptitiously checking things out. Dean usually did the snooping.

"Mr. Waldor, I understand you had separated from your wife before she died' "Sam started.

"Yes, she left me a month ago." Kevin pursed his lips and started nodding his head, as if something was really bothering him. Then he seemed to burst, becoming suddenly very animated and excitable. "That tramp left me for my business partner!" he exploded. "They stole everything I had right out for under me! My business, my furniture, my BMW, my condo in the city! She even took my cat! I had everything in her name for tax purposes and…" His eyes widened slightly as he realized his slip of the tongue. "I mean, I…"

Dean chuckled, feeling a little sorry for this twitchy mouse of a man. "Relax, Mr. Waldor, we're not the IRS. We're just here to find out more about Patricia."

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh," he grinned sheepishly. "Well then, as I was saying, she was a tramp. She and that bastard Paul had been sneaking around behind my back for months before I caught them! They did it in _my_ bed! The whole town knew – everybody but me, that is. I was humiliated. She got what she deserved!"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Waldor, you do realize she was killed by suffocating on a wad of money? They found her as far down as her stomach. That's a pretty harsh way to go."

"Yeah! She deserved it! Just like I told that guy in the bar the night before."

Both hunters looked up sharply, exchanging a knowing look at Kevin's last comment.

"What did you tell this guy?" Sam asked.

"I told him I wished she would crash my car and choke on all my money!" Mr. Waldor chuckled, not an amused or hearty laugh, but a laugh meaning the coincidence is so twisted it shouldn't be funny but he couldn't help but react to the irony. "Isn't that the freakiest thing?" he added, a little deflated.

"Who was this guy?" Dean demanded.

The man shrugged. "What does it matter?" he asked. "Everyone is so interested in who this guy is. It was just a weird coincidence."

"Well, coincidence or not, we still need to check it out, Mr. Waldor," Sam pressed.

Kevin sighed. "He was just some chump I met in McCulloch's Pub. Average looking, I had never met him before – not from around here. I'd had a couple of drinks," he gave them another sheepish look, indicating that it was likely many more than a couple. "We got to talking, and he asked me exactly what I thought Patty deserved."

"You didn't think that was a strange conversation to have had the day before that exact thing happens to your wife?" Sam asked.

"Ex-wife, or would have been, soon," Kevin corrected.

"What do you mean _everyone_ is so interested in this guy?" Dean questioned, brows furrowed in thought. "Has someone else been asking?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah, the lawyers from the Indianapolis DA's office. They came by just an hour ago. They were really interested in this guy too."

Dean and Sam exchanged another look.

"Who else have you told this to?" Dean asked.

"Nobody." Kevin gave them a pitiful look. "The cops didn't ask and nobody else really comes around anymore; guess she took all my friends too." He glanced up at Dean. "Why?"

"Dude, your cheating wife was murdered in the exact way that you were going around telling people you wanted her to die." Dean spelled it out for him slowly, his tome warning.

Realization dawned on the older man's face and his eyes widened. "Am I a suspect?" he asked, fearfully, looking quickly back and forth from Sam to Dean.

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. _Poor schmuck, the real cops must so be thinking he had something to do with it._

"No, Mr. Waldor, not for now," Sam assured him. "But I would suggest you don't repeat this story to anyone else. It, uh, doesn't look good."

"Yeah, right. Okay. Um, are you gonna write it in your report?" he asked nervously.

Dean shook his head. "Not for now, man. But can you tell us about these lawyers, and why they would be interested in some guy you spoke to in a bar?"

"I don't know. They were nice kids, too nice to be lawyers I told them. They asked about the guy from the bar and they were really interested in the rumours about the old McCulloch cemetery being haunted, and…"

"Haunted cemetery?" Dean interrupted. "What's that all about?"

"Oh," Kevin laughed what could almost be classified as a giggle. "People have been saying for years how the ghost of Old Man McCulloch himself walks around the cemetery at night, looking for people to take his revenge out on. See, the story goes that some two hundred years ago, shortly after the McCulloch clan settled here, he was betrayed and murdered by his wife, who was sleeping with his brother. Now, every so often, he comes back using some type of old Celtic magic and starts killing people. The town had pretty much forgotten the old tale, but with Patty and the high school kid and that other guy all being killed so…" he searched for the right word, "so wierdlike, naturally the stories started up again. A few people have even seen a hooded figure around the McCulloch land," he finished, nodding as if trying to convince the hunters the sightings were credible. He lifted a finger. "Not just crackpots either."

"Ah, I see," Sam nodded, getting the feeling Kevin was hiding something else. "So, Mr. Waldor, we don't want to take up any more of your time but do you know how we can get a hold of the lawyers that came to see you?"

Kevin looked a little surprised but nodded. "Yeah, one of them gave me their card." He fished around in his pockets until he found it. "Here it is," he handed it to Sam. "If you see them, tell them I need my iPhone back."

"You gave them your phone?" Dean asked curiously.

"Well, they said they could get a warrant, but then I wouldn't ever get it back. If I just gave it to them, they could have it back to me in a couple of days." He looked at Dean, brows furrowed. "Was that not right? Hey, wait, don't you guys collaborate on these things? A 'you-catch-the-bad-guys, they-put-them-in-jail' kind of thing?"

"Dude, you've been watching too much Law and Order," Dean snorted. "We do all the work, lawyers just get in the way. What was on the phone that interested them?"

Kevin grinned sheepishly. "Well, like I said, I had been drinking all evening the night before Patty died and I was walking to the bar, which is right past the cemetery, so I looked over the wall to see if I could see the ghost of Old Man Mculloch and, sure enough, there he was!" He spread his hands in the air at his sides, "I know," he laughed, nodding. "I never thought I'd be one to see a ghost! Well, something, anyway. Something big, in dark robes – I got it all on video. I was gonna sell it to the news stations but with Patty getting killed and all, I had forgotten about it until those lawyers asked about it."

Dean and Sam stared in disbelief at the snickering little man. "You actually have a video of Old Man McCulloch's ghost?" Sam asked incredulously. The hunters could get a lot of information from a video, but in the wrong hands, it could do a lot of damage.

"And you forgot about it?" Dean added.

"Hey, I barely remember filming it," he defended, smiling. "Oh, and one of the lawyers, James I think his name was, mentioned they were staying at the Celtic Lodge and Cabins. It's at the East edge of town just off the highway," he offered.

"Thanks," Dean and Sam chimed in unison as they headed back outside, where the air was getting cooler as dusk was quickly approaching.

Once back on the road, Dean turned to Sam. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"If you're thinking we go to the cemetery later tonight and salt and burn Old Man McCulloch, then yes," the younger hunter smiled. "There are a couple of things that don't really jive with this being just an angry spirit, but better safe than sorry."

"Cemetery it is then, and it's your turn to do the digging," Dean pointed out.

Sam started to pull a classic Sammy-pout but released it quickly and sighed. Actually, it was Dean's turn, but he would let his brother have this one. Over the years, his brother had taken many of Sam's turns to dig up the graves and had seldom needed a reason. It was the least Sam could do for him. He pulled out the lawyer's card that Kevin had given him.

"Alex Barlow," he read aloud. "With the Indianapolis District Attorney's Office. So they're staying at our motel? DA's don't care about cemetery ghosts, so what do you think?" he asked Dean. "Hunters or reporters? Crap, those Weekly World News reporters would jump on this story. These deaths are too weird to go unnoticed, especially with a real live monster twist. We need to get that video, things could get messy quick and very public if it gets out there's a killer ghost at the cemetery. We'd never get near it to salt and burn the bones." Sam looked back down at the card. "God, I hope these dudes are hunters."

"I'm bettin' reporters. Hunters know you always get better intel playing cops over lawyers," Dean said. "Well, there's one way to find out." He turned and grinned at Sam. "It's time for some B&E, little brother."

SPN-SPN-SPN

_**TBC... **__Sorry, not the most exciting chapter, I know, but the boys had to get a little leg work in before__ the 'run-of-the-mill hunt' goes sideways next chap. Hope you're still being entertained and stay tuned..._


	3. Change of Plan, Sammy!

_Thanks for the alerts and faves guys – considering the story hasn't even warmed up yet, that's very encouraging! As Dean would say, you're awesome!_

**Chapter 3 -** **Change of Plan, Sammy!**

The Winchesters pulled up in front of the motel office in the Impala. The sun had slipped below the horizon and the last hints of twilight were fading fast. They could see the same teenager that had checked Sam in still behind the counter, laughing at the small TV on the corner of the desk.

"Okay, Sam," Dean nodded to his brother, "you distract the kid, I'll get the room number."

They walked in casually, Sam smiling at the desk clerk.

Brody looked up, raised eyebrows. "What's with the suits dudes?" he asked.

"Uh, we were at a funeral," Sam offered as Dean sauntered casually over to the flyer rack, pretending to browse for local sites of interest.

"Oh," Brody nodded as if that explained everything. It was a small town, after all, and the weird way that kid died had been all the talk, even he probably knew about Milton Redgrove's wake today. He turned to Dean, "Hey, that's your Impala huh?"

Dean looked up from his Gaelic Games Festival flyer. "Yeah," he grinned.

"Man, I am so gonna get me a sweet ride like that - score me some honeys!" Brody cooed.

"Wanna see how she runs?" Dean offered, raising his eyebrows to tempt the impressed teen.

Brody's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! Cool!"

Dean tossed the keys to Sam. "Jimmy, why don't you take the kid for a spin?" he grinned cheekily, ignoring his brother's glare.

Brody suddenly looked a bit doubtful. "But I can't leave the desk," he said.

"Ah, don't worry," Dean waved him on, "I'll keep an eye on things. It seems pretty quiet, and you're not going far – stay in the lot here."

Brody gave in, nodding at Sam with excitement. Sam feigned an enthusiastic smile, "Alright man, let's see what she can do!" he said, as Brody followed him out.

Dean shook his head. That had been too easy! His second pride and joy (Sammy being his first, though he would never admit to that one) had come through for him once again. He hopped behind the counter and started searching for the registrar of hotel guest names, hoping the so-called lawyers were registered under the name Alex Barlow. Other than that, all they knew was that the other one was possibly called James.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Meanwhile, Sam was heading over to the large, empty gravel lot between the motel and the bar, an excited Brody vocally admiring the well-kept interior of Dean's baby. At first miffed at Dean for sticking him with conducting kiddie-rides in the parking lot, Sam was enjoying himself by the end of the first spin. He roared the Impala's engine, feeling the power as she bolted across the lot for a second time, and turned the wheel sharply as he threw the parking brake on, pulling a full one-eighty before hammering down on the accelerator and taking her into a nice, tight three-spin donut. He actually cheered almost as loudly as Brody in the seat next to him. Oh yeah, he was going to milk this opportunity. He barely got to drive this beauty now that Dean was back, never mind _really_ drive her. Dean would have a flash of fun here and there with her on a whim, but mostly he babied her, and Sam was under strict instructions to _always_ baby her. The car had actually been his for the four months Dean had been gone but had been so preoccupied with getting his brother back he hadn't given her much thought past installing an iPod jack – an accessory that promptly got ripped out upon Dean's return.

After a few minutes, he decided he had better take her back. Dean had had plenty of time to get a room number for the lawyers. Brody sat grinning next to him.

"Hey buddy, can you swing by the diner on the way back over?" he asked Sam, eyes dancing. "I want my girl to see me in this car."

"You have a girl?" Sam asked, trying very hard not to sound too disbelieving.

"Aw man, she is so totally hot! She's in the diner right now, sitting by the front window." He ran his hands through his hair, looking in the side mirror. "I can see her from the office window. Technically, she's not my girl, but I'm workin' on it."

Sam laughed. What harm could it do? He'd been a teenager once and remembered harbouring a futile crush on debate-team president Rhonda. The same Rhonda that had later fogged up the Impala's windows on numerous occasions - with Dean, of course. He steered the car over to the diner and drove slowly past so Brody's crush would be sure to see him and couldn't help but laugh out loud when he saw the girl Brody had been referring to.

She was sitting alone in a booth by the window, drinking what Sam presumed to be coffee and writing in a notebook. She must have been in her mid-twenties; definitely not in high school. As they came alongside, Brody leaned over and honked the horn long and hard. Sam pushed the kid's hand away, embarrassed. She looked up sharply and squinted outside into the near dark. She had long, blonde hair with loose curls at the ends and a very attractive face and Sam realized it was the same blonde Dean had been checking out when they had arrived. She seemingly recognized Brody because she smiled and gave him a cheerful wave.

"Aw, my angel Alex, my angel Alex!" Brody cooed as they passed the diner and headed the fifty yards over to the office.

"Alex?" The name got Sam's attention.

"Yeah, Alex Barlow. She's a reporter, checked in a few days ago. Isn't she hot?"

_Damn, a reporter._ Well this was an interesting turn of events. "By herself?" Sam fished.

Brody looked a little deflated at the last question. "Nah, got her cameraman with her but he's no threat, a lame-ass surfer dude wannabe. I gave them a room with two beds and they didn't come back for a king-size," he grinned, nodding as if this was concrete proof he still had a chance.

Sam parked outside the office, saying good-bye to Brody as the clerk skipped back up the two steps to find Dean coming out of the doorway.

"Have fun?" the older hunter asked.

"Awesome dude, she's a sweet ride. I'm totally gonna turn your porn channels on for free man!" Brody grinned as he passed Dean and went inside.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam as he walked up to where his little brother stood by the car. "Do I even want to know what you two girls were talking about?" he asked with a lopsided grin.

Sam shook his head, dismissing Dean's teasing with a wave of the hand. "I got info," he said.

"You mean other than the price of new tires, 'cause you, little brother, are going to be buying me a set." Dean jabbed his finger at Sam, only half in jest. "I said go for a spin, not the freakin' Paris-Dakar Rally!"

Sam shrugged, deciding the scolding was worth the fun he had just had. "Did you get the room number?" he asked Dean, trying to change the subject.

Dean scoffed. "Of course." He held up a room key, shaking it at his brother. "And we don't even have to pick the lock," he grinned.

"Good, because Alex Barlow is in the diner right now," Sam announced.

Dean looked up, seeing the opportunity. "So that means right now should be a perfect time for a visit to their room, assuming James is with him. Why don't you go to the diner and distract him, fish around for Kevin's phone, and I'll check out the room." Dean may have phrased his words like a suggestion, but as usual they were meant as an order.

Sam nodded in agreement. "FYI, they checked in as a reporter and her cameraman, not lawyers," Sam added.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "_Her_?"

Of all the words in that sentence, why was that the one his brother picked up on? "Yeah, in the front window of the diner there." Sam pointed to the girl in the window in the distance who was still bent over some papers on the table.

Dean followed his finger, squinting. "The blonde?" he asked.

Sam sighed and twitched his nose. "Yeah," he said, knowing what was coming next.

Dean grinned back at him. "Change of plan Sammy!" He tossed Sam the stolen room key and started walking towards the diner. "I'll go distract the hot blonde, you go rifle through her shit like a peeping Tom."

SPN-SPN-SPN

The door chimed as Dean walked in, announcing his arrival to the three patrons in the Celtic Diner. He nodded a quick greeting at the two patrons that looked up to see who had entered before glancing over to the one that hadn't. She had her head down, engrossed in a book on the table. He strolled casually over, scanning the rest of the place for any sign of this James guy. Seeing none, he spared a thought for his brother and hoped Sam wasn't going to have any trouble.

He stood by her table and, when she didn't seem to notice him, he cleared his throat. "Ahem, miss?" he asked, his best polite, charming 'Fed' game voice kicking in.

Alex looked up sharply, her hands quickly covering the hardcover book she was reading. She was clearly startled to see a man standing three feet away from her but Dean was pleased to note the usual barely-perceptible follow-up gasp of appraisal as she took in his best disarming smile. He was no fool; he knew the effect he had on women when he played his cards right. Next to his aim with a 9mm, he considered it his best hunting skill – all kinds of hunting.

"Are you Alex Barlow?" he asked politely.

"Yes," she answered with a hesitant smile. He could tell the suit was making her a little nervous.

He pointed to the bench across from her. "May I sit?" he asked, sliding into the bench without waiting for a reply.

"Can I help you?" she said stiffening. Clearly she wasn't pleased at his boldness and her initial nerves seemed to be gone.

Still smiling, he pulled out a badge and held it up for her. "I'm Detective Kilmister with the State Police." He put it away quickly before she could see a badge number. The ID looked real enough but Bobby didn't have a phone in his kitchen for Indiana State Police.

"I understand you're a reporter?" he continued, studying her reaction very carefully.

"I dabble," she answered with a shrug.

He grinned, wishing he had put money on the bet with Sam of reporters over hunters. "What paper do you work for?" he pressed.

"I freelance," she answered quickly.

"What story are you working on now?"

She snorted. "Three strange murders in one week, _Detective_." He could see her studying him as she stressed the word Detective and guessed she wasn't completely buying the fake ID. He didn't flinch. "What story do you think I am working on?" she asked, not being subtle with the sarcasm.

"That would have been my guess." He smirked and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "Have you by any chance been to see the widower of the second victim, _Mrs_. Barlow?" Following her lead, he stressed the word Mrs.

If she was nervous at the line of questioning, she covered beautifully, pulling her elbows up onto the table also and leaning forward closer to him. "Please," she smiled sweetly, "it's _Ms_."

_Nice deflect_, Dean thought, tempted to take her up on the invitation to forget the questioning and flirt openly. She really was a hottie up close. Not in the dolled up way of the beauties he usually picked up from bars, but attractive in a simpler, natural sort of way. Blue eyes, long dark lashes, and a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Tempting... but his hunting instincts kicked in and he leaned back in his seat again. "Well, _Ms_. Barlow, were you at the residence of Kevin Waldor today?"

She sighed. "I might have stopped by to see him," she admitted.

"And might you have identified yourself as an officer of the District Attorney's Office and falsely confiscated potential evidence?" He grinned smugly at her now, seeing a flicker of unease flash fleetingly across her blue eyes.

"Can I see your badge again, Officer Kilmister?" she asked suddenly, going on the offensive.

"That's Detective," he corrected her. He reached for his pocket and produced the badge, holding it just out of her reach. She appeared to study it closely for a second before sitting back in her seat.

Her words dripping with sarcasm, she asked "And who's your partner, Detective Philthy Animal Taylor?"

Dean's cocky grin flinched in surprise, only for a split second, but he knew he had been busted. _Damn, he must be getting sloppy. What kind of chick knows Motorhead?_

"Yeah, give me your badge number; I'm gonna call it in." She held her hand out.

"You sure you want to do that?" Dean challenged. "After all, I'm not the one who stole evidence from a suspect."

Alex snorted. "Kevin didn't do anything except fall to pieces when his wife screwed him over. They're never gonna think it was him. Besides," she added, "He had no connection with the other two deaths."

"Is that what you're gonna report in your next story?" Dean asked.

"Who are you?" she asked through narrowed eyes, studying him closely.

"Give me Kevin's phone and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"What phone?" she feigned innocence.

It occurred to Dean her hand had been resting firmly on a pile of papers at the window end of the table and she tensed slightly with that same hand when she made the last comment. The papers were not resting flat on the table as he had assumed and there was a small object underneath them. An object about the size of an iPhone. _This was going to be too easy._ He reached under the papers and grabbed the object so quickly she barely saw it coming. She gasped and grabbed for his hand but he caught her wrist with his other hand and pulled the object out. As he suspected, it was a phone, the name 'K Waldor' on the display screen. He laughed triumphantly.

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and huffed in annoyance at him as she straightened up her sleeve.

"Aw, come on now," he chided. "There's no need to be like that."

"Well?" she prompted, looking at him expectantly.

"Well what?" he asked.

"You got the phone, your turn to spill." She reminded him of his earlier promise.

"Well," he started, "I'm an Aquarius, I like classic cars, classic rock, and long walks on the beach."

She laughed. _Wow, she had a nice laugh_.

"Anything else you want to know, I could probably just show you," he grinned with a cheeky raise of his eyebrows. The Detective gig was up; he may as well go for it.

She chuckled then paused, eyes going serious again. "You're not a reporter, are you?" she asked, looking worried.

"No, your little video won't be seen on CNN anytime soon," he replied, holding up the phone.

"How did you know who I was?" she drilled.

"Borne's very own Norman Bates," Dean supplied. "Brody."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh," she said, as if that explained everything. "What's your real name?"

"Dean," he replied, thinking that much couldn't do any harm. He was a little surprised at himself for letting her continue her string of questions. Usually he made sure he was doing the asking.

"Just Dean?"

"Just Dean."

"And what brings you to Borne, Dean?"

"Work," was his truthful reply.

"Are you a hunter?" she asked quietly after a thoughtful pause.

Dean raised his eyebrows but never got the chance to answer as a man suddenly showed up at their table, smiling.

"Lex, honey, hi!" the guy smiled cheerfully as he bent down to kiss Alex's cheek before sliding in the booth next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders in a blatant attempt to make his territory known. He looked across at Dean. "And you are?" he asked in a friendly enough manner.

Dean expertly hid his slight disappointment at the arrival of the dude. He was about Dean's height, of similar build, with short blond hair and striking blue eyes. His smile showed off a row of perfectly white teeth and some pretty impressive dimples, ones that could possibly rival Sam's. The guy was wearing a pink long-sleeved tee and khakis_. Pretty-boy_, Dean snorted to himself. He hated pretty-boys. This must be James.

"This is Dean," Alex offered. "He was just looking for directions."

Dean took that as his cue to leave. Surprisingly, with the arrival of her boyfriend, she hadn't mentioned the phone and was actually giving Dean the opportunity to take his leave with it, free and clear. He stood up, nodding to Alex. "Well, thanks for showing me the way. You kids have a good night," he offered as he walked away, very curious to find out what Sam had found in the couple's room.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Dean walked back slowly across the lot in the dark towards the Impala and drove it round to the Winchesters' Cabin in the back of the motel. Sam wasn't back yet, but the younger hunter slipped in quietly less than ten minutes later.

"Any trouble?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "I think they're hunters" he offered, shaking off his jacket.

Dean nodded. He was suspecting the same in the light of Alex's last question even though the pair certainly didn't look the part. "What did you find?"

"They had lots of research books around. You know, books on paranormal and supernatural stuff. Not much in the way of weapons, but I'm guessing most hunters, like us, don't leave their sawed-offs lying around their motel rooms."

"Did you get an idea of what their take on this hunt is?"

Sam nodded. "They had some stuff on Old Man McCulloch – seems his name was Angus Alistair McCulloch and he moved here during the Highland Clearances from Scotland around 1750, died in 1772. The McCullochs are all buried in the private cemetery on their land, out near McCulloch's Bar, where Kevin saw the robed figure. Oh, by the way, no iPhone in the room," Sam shrugged.

Dean chuckled. "Oh ye of little faith," he scoffed as he produced the phone and tossed it over to Sam, who chuckled.

"What did you do, pick the girl's purse?" he grinned as he jumped up to start up his laptop so they could watch the video on the larger monitor.

"No, I used my considerable charm and she just handed it over," Dean lied.

Sam rolled his eyes, not sure if his brother was telling the truth or not. Dean's 'considerable charm' with the ladies had scored them valuable information in a great many hunts over the years, but it had also scored him quite a few slaps across the cheek and had, on more than one occasion, landed both of them in a heap of trouble.

"One more thing," Sam remembered suddenly, his face pulling into a frown. "They had some papers on tricksters. And you know Dean, I'm thinking there is a chance this actually could be him. Bully gets pants'd and run up the flagpole, scheming lady chokes on the money she scammed off her poor husband, and we don't know about the third guy yet with the fire poker in the nuts. Sounds a bit like just desserts to me. And the Old-Man-McCulloch-is-an-angry-spirit thing has holes – I mean, it doesn't explain the stranger Kevin talked to in the bar."

"I don't think it's a trickster Sammy, but we'll keep it in mind," offered Dean.

"No, Dean, seriously, if this begins to look one bit more like a trickster, we are out of here!" Sam's voice raised in pitch slightly, almost verging on panic mode. Seeing Dean's lack of understanding, he pressed the issue. "Dude, I watched that bastard kill you like, a hundred times. And we still have no idea of how to stop him. If this is a trickster, we split, promise me!"

"And what, leave these two amateurs alone to get themselves killed?" Dean scoffed.

"Promise me!" Sam shouted.

Dean silenced his next retort, seeing the panic and the pain of memories flashing in his brother's eyes. He may not remember himself being killed over and over, but it was obvious that Sam had not forgotten any of his countless deaths. These may or may not have been as horrific as seeing the Hellhounds tear his big brother to shreds, but they clearly still affected the younger hunter deeply.

"Okay" he agreed, in a softened voice. He hated to see Sam so worked up. "If it's our friendly neighborhood trickster, we bounce and Barbie and Ken are on their own. But tonight, we go salt and burn Old Man McCulloch and hope that solves the problem."

Sam nodded quickly, satisfied, then looked down at his laptop. "Okay, here goes," he announced, having plugged in the iPhone and now scrolling through its menu, looking for the video in question. "Let's try this one," he said, hitting the play button.

"I can't see anything, it's too dark," Dean complained, both brothers pushing their eyes closer to the screen, straining to see.

"There's a light," Sam pointed out, holding his breath. The squarish yellow light in the middle of the screen seemed to grow bigger. The picture was shaky, probably due to Kevin's drunken state the hunters both surmised. Suddenly the light shot out to the full size of the screen and an image jumped out at them, along with a loud squeal followed by an even louder moan. It took the brothers a moment for their eyes to interpret what they were seeing. The camera was entering from the dark through a lit doorway where it quickly zoomed in on an older, chubby man thrusting away at an unseen woman beneath him who was moaning loudly with pleasure.

Both brothers shot back from the screen with yells of disgust which quickly turned to awkward embarrassment.

"Dude, wrong video!" Dean snapped at his brother.

Flustered, Sam blushed and grabbed for the phone, pressing stop and scrolling through the videos again.

"_Soooo_ the wrong video," Dean repeated. "Hey," he snickered, getting over any embarrassment quicker than his shyer brother, "suppose that was Kevin's wife and the business partner?"

"Let's try this one," Sam said warily, pressing play again but sitting a little farther back this time.

The next three videos consisted of the camera panning over a table of odd-looking machinery, a woman in her forties doing some gardening and yelling at the cameraman to "Turn that damn thing off!", and a Siamese cat licking its paws for ten full minutes on a window sill.

"That's all there is," Sam groaned, scrolling repeatedly through the phone's video list. "It's not on here."

Dean stood up quickly, his demeanor demonstrating his annoyance at missing out on a visual clue to what this thing was. "The bitch erased it," he spat. "No wonder she didn't put up a fight when I left with the phone."

SPN-SPN-SPN

A little after two a.m., the black Impala crawled past the McCulloch Cemetery before pulling into the wide, gravel parking that extended a hundred yards over to the pub next door. Dean parked his Chevy close to the cemetery gates, away from the bar. The hunters got out and moved quickly to the trunk, rummaging through it for the necessary supplies.

A shovel to dig, some salt, flasks of holy water, flashlights, an assortment of knives, the shotgun with plenty of extra rock-salt rounds, and, just for good measure, his Colt .45. The last item was tucked away in its usual hiding spot, at the small of Dean's back under his shirts. It would have been reassuring to have Samuel Colt's fugly-killing gun also, but Bela had robbed them of that small comfort months ago.

The brothers walked quickly towards the eight foot high stone wall surrounding the large cemetery, climbing on a decrepit Ford pick-up truck rotting away near the solid wooden gates to reach the top. They tossed the shovel over and dropped themselves down on the other side, keeping an eye on the bar next door until they were over to make sure no exiting patrons spotted them.

They split up and strolled among the graves for the better part of half an hour, searching for the one belonging to Angus McCulloch. The moon was almost full and was shining enough light on the headstones to make reading them easy.

Dean was getting frustrated as he called over to his brother. "Sam! You gettin' anything?"

"No," Sam replied, clearing the brush off a large cross headstone to get a look at the name engraved on its face. "A few Angus McCullochs, but none died in the right time period."

"Yeah," agreed Dean, "Every second one is a McCulloch; the entire clan must have been buried here. All but the Old Man himself."

Sam sighed and looked around. The cemetery was a big one with a large, grassy hill at one end. The other three sides were surrounded by the stone wall they had climbed over to get in. Most of the graves were down on the flat area by the gates with only a few scattered partway up the slope. Sam noticed a rough, partially grown-over two-wheel track leading up to a small stone building at the top of the hill.

"Dean!" Sam called, pointing at the silhouetted building about three hundred yards away, standing alone at the hilltop. "Does that look like a mausoleum to you?"

Dean followed his brother's finger and let out a small cry of satisfaction when he spotted it, moving quickly to catch up with Sam as they started up the track together.

The small stone building had a large double door made of solid wood, the handles tied together with a thick chain and padlock. Engraved in the smooth stone above the entrance was the name McCulloch, confirming this was indeed a mausoleum. Dean grabbed the shovel from Sam and slammed the handle into the padlock. Though not a direct hit, the padlock popped open easily and dropped to the ground, followed noisily by the rusty chain. Sam let out a small huff.

"What?" Dean complained, rolling his eyes. "You could've done it quieter?" He pushed open the door with his shoulder, twirling his flashlight around in his hand with his best Wild Bill Hickok impression. He gave Sam a mischievous grin and disappeared inside.

The small chamber they entered was empty but had a set of stone steps going down in the center to what they guessed was a crypt for the higher status McCullochs. Hopefully Old Angus was among those, Dean thought as he led the way down to the lower level, brushing hanging roots out of the air before him. Sam followed close on his heels.

The lower level was much larger, with a row of stone columns down the center. Both sides were lined with coffin-sized chambers, most of which had the entrances sealed with brick and mortar. Sam started on the right and Dean took the left side, the brothers wasting no time in continuing the search for their suspected supernatural troublemaker. The nameplates under each hole were small and rough with age, making the writing on them difficult to read.

Progress was going slowly and Sam was scraping away at one nameplate about half way down his row when he heard a noise from the stairway. He turned quickly, but not fast enough to completely dodge the blow that landed on his shoulder, sending him reeling backwards a few feet before hitting the floor. His flashlight still rolling across the ground next to him, he saw before him, correction - _over him_, a large hooded figure in a dark robe, face blackened by the shadows. It raised its arms as if to strike again but jerked back a foot when the shotgun blast sounded. Sam turned to see his brother rushing over, reaching for Sam's arm with his free hand, pumping the shotgun for its next blast with the other.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean shouted as he unloaded another blast of rock salt at the creature. Another jerk, but the figure was standing its ground. It hissed in anger and charged towards them while Sam was still trying to scramble to his feet. Dean stepped in front of his brother protectively, pulled his .45 out and started firing but the beast didn't even flinch. A strong backhand sent the older hunter flying across the tomb where he hit the stone wall with a thud and a groan before falling to the ground.

"Dean!" Sam cried out in alarm. He grabbed for the flask of holy water in his pocket, fumbling to open the screwcap as the robed figure advanced on him again. He splashed the water at its horned head, its hollowed face and sharp, inhuman teeth now visible as the hood had slipped down to its shoulders. Nothing. Not even a flinch. He grabbed for the discarded now-empty shotgun and, holding it by the barrel, took a swing at the thing. He landed a couple of blows and was heartened to see Dean staggering to his feet in his peripheral vision. Not so heartening was the effect, or lack thereof, that his blows were having on the creature, which was raising its fist to strike again.

Suddenly, three more shots rang out and this time the creature did react. It arched back in pain, taking a few steps backward and screaming a bloodcurdling scream before spinning around to see its new attacker.

It took a second for Sam to realize it hadn't been Dean who had fired. He looked past the robed figure to see a man, his face hidden in shadow. The man was pointing a handgun at the creature, both arms outstretched in front of him. He held the gun fixed steadily on the robed figure as he moved quickly around it to position himself between the threat and the brothers.

The creature, eyes narrowed in anger as they followed the movement of the newcomer, didn't move for a few seconds, then spun quickly and headed towards the stairs. The man fired three more rounds at its back as it fled. The shots found their mark and the figure jerked sharply with each hit but kept moving, disappearing up the stairs and out into the night.

"Sammy, you okay?" Sam heard Dean asking him for the second time. He nodded and turned to see his brother standing up next to him, having just grabbed the wayward flashlight from the floor and turned it suspiciously on the stranger's face.

"Hey!" the guy cried, raising his arm to block the flashlight's glare. "Are you two good, 'cause we have to get going _now_."

Sam saw a blonde man about Dean's age but didn't recognize his face.

"The dude from the diner?" Dean asked sharply, surprise apparent in his tone. "Alex's boyfriend... uhh, James." He brushed aside the quick pang of resentment that hit him at having somebody rescue him. _Him_, _Dean Winchester! Rescued!_ If he could survive Hell, surely he didn't need help from some pretty-boy who just happened to have a better gun than him. But Sam could have been hurt and wasn't, so for that, he could suffer this small humiliation.

"It's Josh," the guy corrected, "and we have to go _now._ Lex is still outside where that thing just went." He turned briskly towards the stairs, not waiting for the brothers.

Dean and Sam pulled themselves together, collecting their guns and following quickly. They had been roughed up far worse than this many times so shelving the pain and aches they were both feeling until the threat was gone was like second nature to them. They were near the top of the stairs when they heard a sharp cry and felt, rather than saw something large flying towards them. Instinct made them dodge the object, not realizing until it was sailing past them and tumbling down the stairs that it had been their would-be rescuer.

"Shit!" Dean swore as he pulled his pistol back out and hopped up the remaining steps into the small mausoleum chamber, scanning the darkness for a sign of the creature. Sam ran back down the stairs to check on Josh, who let out a loud groan from where he lay at the bottom.

The creature was gone, at least as far as Dean could tell. He looked out the door into the night and saw no trace of it. Down at the far end of the cemetery, he stared as he saw an SUV smash through the big wooden gates and swing around the gravestones, making its way madly towards the hill. He ducked back inside to find Sam struggling with Josh, the barely conscious man's arm draped around Sam's neck as the younger Winchester tried to support him and haul him up the stairs at the same time. Dean rushed up and took the guy's other arm, hurrying them towards the exit.

SPN-SPN-SPN

_**TBC...**_


	4. Shaggy needs a Serious Haircut

**Chapter 4 - Shaggy Needs a Serious Haircut **

It had been only minutes since Josh had ordered Alex to go get the Bronco. They had been watching the cemetery from a crumbled section of wall about halfway up the hill in the cover of a large tree with low branches. Alex had recognized Dean as soon as she saw the two figures climbing the wall down by the gate. "I told you he was a hunter," she had smiled to Josh, who was lying on the ground next to her.

Josh had joked about how these two would spend an hour trying to find the grave of Old Man McCulloch, much as they had just done.

"What do you think?" Alex whispered as they watched the two men wandering among the graves. "Friends or family? Or a couple?"

Josh smiled as he studied the pair in the cemetery. "Well, looking at that one, I'd say they could possibly be a couple." He pointed at the taller of the two. "But no way the other one swings that way; look at the way he walks. Besides, I saw the way he was checking you out in the diner." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Probably family but they don't look much alike. I'd say cousins." He winked at Alex. "Wanna take the bet?"

She shook her head. "Nah, you're always right. I would have said buddies though, and FYI, a dude having nice hair doesn't necessarily spell gay."

"Nice hair? Shaggy needs a serious haircut."

They had chuckled at the expense of the Winchesters seeing them hammering the padlock that they themselves had already broken and simply laid back in place after their own search of the tomb had turned up no Angus McCulloch.

But all traces of humour had disappeared when Alex had suddenly felt a dark presence nearby. Seconds later they saw the tall, shadowy figure in dark robes up by the mausoleum, heading for its wide open door. The hunters would be trapped inside.

"Shit!" Alex had gasped, hand over her mouth. "It's going right for them! Think they can take it on?"

Josh reacted quickly. "Get to the car," he ordered. "I'll go help them out."

"We don't even know if the bullets will work on it," she hesitated, reaching for his arm.

"Look, these guys haven't seen the video, remember? They may think it's just some angry spirit they can toss salt at," he argued. "I have to try." He swung down into the graveyard and pulled his gun from the small of his back where he kept it tucked in his jeans.

"Be careful!" Alex called after him in a whisper. He glanced back at her and smiled before breaking cover and running across the open side of the hill. The creature had just entered the mausoleum door and was probably startling the unsuspecting pair right now.

Alex dropped to the outside of the wall and headed for their Bronco parked in the dark, back corner of the bar parking lot.

She reached the SUV but there was no way she was waiting out here while the only person she loved was fighting some ungodly creature way up that hill. Even if the two hunters hadn't been hurt, the three men would never be able to get all the way down here and over the wall without it catching up with them - it had moved pretty fast in Kevin's video.

"Shit," she said quietly, debating what to do. She had noted earlier that the large wooden gates of the cemetery were locked from the inside with just a wooden bar. Surely the Bronco could handle that. She winced at the thought of harming Josh's ride – _again__ -_ but she had to do _something_. She started it up and floored the accelerator, aiming straight at the gates. She heard a slight crunch of metal as she hit them but mostly the splintering of wood as she crashed through. She headed towards the hill with the small, stone building at its summit, swerving around headstones as best she could.

As she pulled to a skidding stop in front of the tomb, she saw three figures emerging from the dark room, all bundled together. The two strangers were on either side supporting Josh, his head hanging limply on his chest. _Oh God!_ She jumped out of the car, running to him, lifting his face in her hands.

"Josh!" she near-panicked, ignoring the two hunters and trying to see where Josh was injured. To her relief, he groaned and his eyes flickered open for a second.

"We gotta go! Now!" the one she recognized as Dean snapped, showing no trace of the smooth, relaxed, charm from earlier this evening as he kept moving quickly towards the Bronco, dragging Josh with him. She looked up at him and caught his gaze.

_Is he okay_? her eyes asked him, begging for some reassurance.

It was the second hunter, the taller one, that answered her silent question. "Look, he'll be alright; we just need to get him out of here," he said in a friendly but urgent tone.

That helped. She fought down the wave of panic that had threatened to spill over and turned back to the Bronco, opening the driver's door and quickly pushing the seat forward for the strangers to get Josh in the back seat. The taller one climbed in with him and Alex jumped back into the driver's seat while Dean ran around to the passenger side, barely getting his feet in before she was kicking up stones and speeding back down the hill.

About halfway down, the robed figure suddenly appeared right in front of them. Alex was about to swerve when Dean yelled. "Mow the sucker down!"

_Good idea_. She tightened her grip on the wheel and pressed the accelerator farther to the floor, heading straight for the thing. She expected to hear a sickening crunch and probably some big bumps as they drove over the creature's carcass, but she thought wrong. When the Bronco slammed into the figure, it was like they had hit a brick wall. Alex was thrown forward, bumping her head on the steering wheel. She saw the man in the passenger seat hit the dash next to her before falling back onto his seat, and the cries from the back seat hinted that the rear passengers had not fared any better. She looked up, the vehicle at a complete stop now though the engine was still running. The figure was still standing directly in front of them.

"Shit!" she repeated the curse for the third time in as many minutes.

"Back up! Back up!" Dean was yelling, his hand pressed to his forehead but she was already throwing the vehicle into reverse. She hit the accelerator again and turned to look out the rear window.

As she backed up, she glanced at Josh, who was half on the seat, half on the floor, being dragged back up by the tall hunter next to him. Josh didn't look fully aware of his situation, but his eyes were open and he was awake. _Thank God_. Alex spared a grateful glance to the young man behind her before returning her attention to the view out the rear window.

She had reversed thirty feet or so when she threw the gear stick into drive and started forward again, swerving this time sharply to the left to get away from the threatening figure, which still stood in the same spot, glaring fiercely at them. As they sped past, it turned its body to maintain its angry glare, raised its hands in the air, tilted its horned head upwards, and screamed. Suddenly there was a bright flash and flames engulfed the outside of speeding SUV.

Alex let out a sharp, involuntary scream but kept her foot on the gas. Dean's arms shot up instinctively to shield his head from the flames outside his window. Luckily, all the windows were closed and the flames died away in a few seconds. The Bronco seemed to be, for the most part, undamaged as they continued down the hill, gaining speed as the ground leveled out.

"What the Hell was that?" the younger hunter in the back seat voiced what they were all thinking.

Dean turned to face him. "Sam, is that thing following us?" he demanded, straining to see out the back window. Alex couldn't see the creature in her rear view mirror.

After a pause, Sam replied sharply. "It's coming! And fast! Go, go, go!" he encouraged Alex urgently, who already had the Bronco bouncing violently over rocks and bumps on the rough ground as she tore around the gravestones towards the splintered gates.

She didn't dare turn her head to look as she concentrated on dodging the bigger headstones. Dean had obviously spotted it and was tracking it with his eyes, a tense look on his face, so she knew it was behind them and to the right. She could tell by their reactions and held breaths that it was moving fast after them, but they reached the gates without further incident and she sped out into the road, tires screeching loudly as she swerved in the direction of the Celtic Lodge.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Once on the road, Alex noticed the two strangers in the car relax immediately. She twisted to glance again at Josh in the back seat. "Josh?" she called, straining to see if he was okay.

He didn't answer. "Josh?" she tried again, more urgently. "Josh? Damnit." She caught the eye of the young dark-haired hunter in the rear view mirror. "Is he okay?"

"We have to go back," Dean announced suddenly.

Alex looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"My car," he stated, as if going back for his car was just plain common sense.

Alex chose to ignore the guy; he must be losing it. "Is Josh okay?" she asked, again turning her attention to the hunter in the back seat.

"I'm fine," came the quiet reply from Josh himself. In the rear view, Alex could see - _what_ _had Dean called him? Oh yeah, Sam_ - Sam turning Josh's head with his hand, prying Josh's fingers away from the injury on his head, trying to get a better look at the gash that appeared to be the source of the blood trickling down his face.

"Is he fine?" she addressed her question to Sam, not trusting Josh to be truthful about his injuries.

"Hello?" Dean spoke up again, trying to get her attention. "Your boyfriend is fine. Can you please turn around and drop us off at our car?"

She gaped at him. "You must have hit your head on the dash harder than I thought," she said, her voice taking on a slightly fierce tone. "Are you seriously asking me to turn around and take you back to where the fire-breathing Incredible Hulk wearing Gandalf's clothes just almost killed us?"

"That wasn't even close," Dean scoffed. "And I'm _not_ leaving my car there!"

Alex shook her head. "Well, I'm not going anywhere 'til I get Josh back to the motel and clean him up," she announced. "I'll drive you back out in the morning to get your precious car," she added, frustrated that she still hadn't received a decent answer on Josh's state of health. "How is he?" she asked Sam again.

"Listen, sweetheart, you need to…" Dean started but was cut off by Sam.

"Dean, that thing was strong, fast, and seriously pissed," the younger Winchester rationalized. "And we don't know how to take it down. Let's wait 'til morning. The car will be fine."

Dean slumped his shoulders in defeat, pursing his lips in silent annoyance. Sam was right. If it was just him, he'd go back, but he couldn't risk the lives of the injured guy, his hot girlfriend, and - most of all - Sam. He didn't spend all those years in Hell just to let some robe-wearing fugly take away what he had sold his soul for. He sat back in the front seat and huffed, mumbling something about kidnapping.

Sam was checking out the extent of Josh's wounds by running his hands over the injured man's ribcage. His patient was leaning back in the seat, quietly allowing the examination, probably feeling too much pain and dizziness to complain. He merely winced whenever Sam pressed on a particularly painful spot.

"He's probably got a minor concussion, definitely some bruised ribs, maybe a couple of broken ones," Sam surmised finally, addressing the blonde in the driver's seat. The brothers had both been wounded too many times for them not to be adept in assessing the seriousness of injuries.

"And my ankle hurts," Josh added meekly, wincing at how whiny that had come out.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. She could accept that. Josh was her whole life and the thing that scared her most in the world was losing him. Her emotions took a beating when he got hurt, but bruises and broken bones and even concussions could heal. She'd suffered enough of all three to know that. But if she ever lost him, if he _died -_ she shuddered, not completing the thought. He would be okay. She turned to Dean and, for a very brief moment, almost forgot the tenseness of the situation enough to chuckle at the hunter who actually looked like he was sulking in her front seat, arms folded and staring away out the front window like a petulant child. She stifled the laugh but couldn't hold back an amused smile. "Where are you staying?" she asked him.

Dean looked over, about to whip a smart-ass retort at her, but was caught off guard by the fact that she was smiling at him. He smirked, releasing his worry over his car and the potentially damning contents of its trunk. Surely it would be alright until morning. "Celtic Lodge and Cabins, same as you," he grinned back.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Alex drove quickly across the large, gravel parking lot and swung a sharp left near the end of the row of rooms, throwing the Bronco in reverse and backing quickly up to the last door. She was first out and had almost reached Dean's door before he stiffly stepped out; the pain from the battering his body had taken earlier suddenly becoming more acute after the slight comfort it had received on the drive back to the motel. Funny how injured muscles seemed to seize right up after even a few moments of relief.

Alex impatiently nudged him aside to flip the seat forward and gain access to the back seat where Josh sat with his hand holding a damp cloth to his head. During the drive, Sam had ripped a piece off the man's shirt, soaked it in holy water, and pressed it against his head. Josh looked at Alex smiled, his white teeth and dimples hiding any trace of hurt or pain in his eyes with great effort, as if calming her fears and worry was his only concern at the moment. He might have convinced her if it wasn't for the gory stream of blood trickling down his cheek. She leaned in and cupped his face in her hands, leaning her forehead against his, sighing heavily with worry and relief.

"I'm okay," Dean heard Josh whisper. "Let's get inside."

She pulled back, nodding and Dean noticed water welling up along her bottom eyelid. The hardened hunter was touched by the obvious affection these two shared and – to his surprise – found himself a little jealous of their willingness to show their concern so openly. That certainly wasn't the Winchester M.O. He wondered fleetingly if Sam was so open with Jessica or if John Winchester's unspoken standing order to repress any and all emotions except anger had carried over into Sam's civilian relationship.

Alex reached for Josh's elbow to help support him. He winced as he made it to the front edge of the seat and attempted to set his feet on the gravel outside. He ducked his head under the doorframe and pulled himself up to his full height, teetering unsteadily for a moment before his left ankle gave out and he fell forward. Or started to. Reacting quickly, Dean shot one hand out onto Josh's chest to steady him, grabbed the injured man's wrist with his other hand, and twisted his own body around so that he was under Josh's arm, pulling the man back upright as he stood up.

Alex threw Dean a grateful look and moved out of the way to let him help Josh the ten feet over the porch to the motel door, which she opened and stood clear for the pair to get inside. Sam followed closely behind, looking around the motel to make sure there were no unwelcome onlookers. She shut the door behind them and headed straight for the bathroom to get some wet towels and their first aid kit.

Dean lowered Josh down on the bed closest to the door with a grunt. The blond man looked up at him gratefully. "Thanks bro," he said sincerely.

Dean shrugged. "Same to you," he shrugged uncomfortably, privately relieved the whole thanking the dude for saving their lives bit was over, at least as far as he was concerned.

Sam spoke up, unwilling to let Dean's lame attempt at expressing gratitude suffice. "Yeah, man, thanks for coming in like that. If you hadn't shown when you did…" He let the sentence die, not sure what would have happened. He and Dean had been in sticky situations before and had always seemed to come through, if not always unscathed. It may or may not have been the same for this one; they had no way of knowing.

"What were you packing, anyway?" Dean asked sharply. "My .45 didn't even make that thing flinch."

Josh looked up at him and grinned, the blood that had run down his cheek now smearing between his teeth. His bloody grin made him look rather fierce and definitely somewhat less of the 'pretty-boy' both Dean and Brody had pegged him as. "Silver bullets," he said. "Thought they would work better than that though," he added ruefully. "Was hoping they'd turn that freak into a pile of monster mush."

Dean grudgingly thought perhaps this guy wasn't so bad after all – for a preppy-looking dude, anyway.

"So they didn't work?" Alex asked, coming out of the bathroom with wet towels and a small bag, having still not been filled in on exactly what happened inside the crypt on the hill. She shrugged off her coat onto the other bed and went to work cleaning Josh's head wound, tossing a wet cloth at Dean, who still had a small crust of blood over his eyebrow from hitting the dash. He nodded her a thank-you.

"They slowed him down," Sam explained, "but not by much and not for long." He took a seat on one of the two plastic chairs at the small motel room table by the window. His brother followed his lead and sat down stiffly on the other bed, dabbing his face with the towel, his arm absently rubbing the back of his neck.

"Holy water and salt didn't have any effect and silver didn't exactly send him packing," Dean summarized, "so how the Hell do we gank this son of a bitch?"

"Do you guys know _what_ it is?" Alex asked, pulling some ointment out of her medical bag and dabbing it on Josh's now clean head would. He gasped and tried to pull away as she worked. Her hand grabbed him by the chin and held his face in place, her forceful grip contradicting the tender look in her eyes. "Don't be such a baby."

Dean and Sam both shook their heads at her question, watching the pair with amusement.

"And it um…" Dean gestured in the air with his hands, like a wizard conjuring up a spell, trying to find the right words "...conjures fire. What's with that? Only thing I know that can do that is Old Yellow Eyes and he's dead." He shook his head again and frowned. "This isn't like anything we've seen before."

"I guess it's safe to say you two are hunters, right?" Alex swung her head around, directing the question at Dean, who sat on the bed behind her.

Dean nodded. "You?" he returned the question.

Alex turned her attention back to Josh, pulling open his eyelids to get a good look at his pupils. "Not really," she answered. "Well," she grinned at Dean again, "we dabble."

Dean snorted, recognizing the reply as the same one she had given in the diner to the reporting question. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Hunters were either in or out – there was no dabbling.

"It means we don't make a full time job out of it," Josh answered for her. "Just if something crosses our path, we feel obliged to try to stop it. OW!" he jerked his head back from Alex, wincing and giving her a glare. She pulled her hand back sharply from where she had been probing at the huge lump on back of his head. "Take it easy Sis," he growled. "I've already got a bad enough headache."

"Sorry," she said softly, straightening up. "Where else does it hurt?"

"Sis?" Dean interrupted.

The brothers saw Josh grin from behind the towel he held to his forehead. "My side," he answered softly to Alex. "Yeah," he turned towards Dean and smirked. "Sis as in sister."

Alex started to pull Josh's shirt off, more gently this time. She turned to Dean with a sly look, remembering Josh had used the old 'boyfriend' ploy in the diner. "What can I say?" she shrugged, "He's protective."

"Yeah," Josh added, "and you had that look in your eye."

Dean felt a bit chagrinned but covered quickly with feigned indignation. "What look?" he questioned with exaggerated innocence.

"The look no guy wants to see directed at his baby sister," Josh clarified, his tone friendly but firm.

Dean snorted uncomfortably but Sam rescued him. "Well, I think we can all agree this thing isn't just an angry spirit," the younger Winchester offered.

"We suspected that after seeing Kevin's video," Alex admitted. "It was too corporeal and it appears in human form."

Sam looked up with interest. "What _was_ on the video?" he asked, no hint of resentment towards their new friends for having kept potentially vital information from him and his brother. After all, in this way of life, you learned to not trust anyone you didn't know well - and even most that you do. He wouldn't have trusted them either, had the shoe been on the other foot.

Alex pointed to the laptop on the table. "It's on the desktop," she said. "The file called 'the Old Man'". Sam turned and opened the laptop, curious to see the video, though he had already seen the thing close up and personal, so he probably wasn't going to find anything new.

"Yeah, thanks for the warning about the other videos on the iPhone, by the way" Dean said sarcastically.

Josh was now out of his shirt and sporting some nasty discolouration on his side that would definitely be turning into some pretty impressive bruises by morning, as well as an assortment of cuts and scrapes. Alex was cleaning them all and bandaging some of the larger ones. He laughed loudly at Dean's comment, an action that caused him to wince with pain and hold his side with his arms.

Alex laughed also, despite her brother's obvious pain. "Knew you'd like that one," she chuckled. "We erased the Old Man McCulloch video right away 'cause we were going to give Kevin the phone back."

Sam was momentarily distracted from finding the video by the laptop he was practically caressing with his hands. "Nice setup," he breathed, amazed at how quickly the hi-tech gear had booted up. He couldn't help but snoop, clicking around to check out the system information. The laptop also had an impressive list of software, including some high-end decryption programs designed to get around passwords and firewalls. Hacker software.

"Find what you were looking for?" Josh asked good-naturedly but dripping with sarcasm.

Sam flushed. "Sorry man, she's a beaut, just curious to see what she was packing."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Dean hovering over him. "Put your tongue back in, geekboy," his brother quipped. "Let's see this video."

Sam double-clicked the icon on the desktop and the video started. It was dark and shaky photography - not just an amateur video, but clearly a drunken amateur video. The shot was taken from the top of the old Ford pick-up the brothers had climbed on to get into the cemetery, facing down across the graves. A familiar, tall, dark figure in robes was walking among the graves. It shuffled about for about a minute before stopping among the headstones and pulling its hood from its head, revealing the drawn out face, the sharp teeth, and the horns. There was an audible gasp from Kevin the cameraman and the creature looked up sharply, glaring right into the lens. It started moving forward very quickly. The picture jerked sharply and a blur of motion was indecipherable as Kevin presumably turned and ran, most likely towards the bar.

"So now you've seen the video," Alex stated, "What else do you know?"

Dean looked straight at her, his gaze hardening. "Look," he said matter-of-factly. "Your brother's hurt, why don't you just let us take this from here."

Alex sucked in a deep breath, her annoyance apparent. "Josh is fine," she said a bit coldly. "If we just pool our intel maybe we can kill this thing. We have worked with other hunters before, you know," she added.

"Well," Sam started but Dean cut him off.

"We work alone," he said abruptly.

"Fine," Alex said stiffly, glaring at Dean. "So will we."

"Look," Dean sighed, "It's just that this is dangerous work and..." he searched for the right words. "I don't want to see you two get hurt," he glanced pointedly over at Josh, who was gingerly putting his shirt back on, "any more than you already have."

Alex didn't try to hide her rising anger. "Alright_**, **__John McClane_," she snapped sarcastically, "May I remind you it was us that saved your asses tonight! Not the other way around!"

"Lex, Lexie, calm down," Josh said softly from his position on the bed, seeing where this was going. "Hey Sis," he looked at her pleadingly. "Can you get me a drink? I really need a Coke." The Coke machine was about ten doors down towards the motel office.

Alex narrowed her eyes, her mouth tight, making obvious her annoyance at her brother's attempt to send her from the room like a child. But, after a moment of glaring at his bruised up, pleading face, she relented as usual and walked briskly out of the room, closing the door behind her with a thud.

If anyone could convince these condescending knuckleheads to play nice, it was her brother. Maybe she was a tad biased, but he was by far the most just-plain-likable guy she had ever known. He had persuaded her to do things his way countless times throughout their lives with his persistent laid back demeanor and gentle, mellow vibe.

"Look," Josh turned to Dean, "I get that you're the professionals and we're the lowly part-timers and all…"

"Your words," Dean replied with a shrug indicating that was exactly what he believed.

"Yeah, but we're already in this thing. We're not going to just get up and leave."

"Dude, this is one bad son of a bitch," Sam interjected. "You really want your sister going up against something like that?"

Josh snorted, shaking his head. "I've spent years protecting my sister from things like that. But wherever we go, there are always more of them. And they kill people, destroy families, and ruin lives. We _know_ they're there. We can't just turn our backs and pretend not to see them, walk away and leave somebody else to die." He shifted himself stiffly on the bed until his back was leaning against the stacked pillows at the head of the bed, the tense lines of pain in his face relaxing visibly as he did so.

"If it was just me, would you work with me?" he asked. "Honestly?"

Dean turned away. "We don't really play well with others, man," he said stubbornly. It wasn't that Alex was a chick. He had no problem with female hunters. He just didn't want to be around when anyone else got hurt. He and Sam didn't have a choice but to live this life, what with Sam's psychic crap and demon-ganking abilities and their supposed role in this war. These two seemed like good people and he genuinely just didn't want to see them get hurt.

Josh apparently mistook the reply as a possible yes. "Listen, I play it cautious. I'm not seriously gonna drag my baby sister into a fight with a demon. But she's really great at researching these suckers and trust me, she can hold her own if things happen to get hairy. If you want to do your own thing, that's fine but we're gonna keep doing ours. And we usually take on poltergeists and run of the mill angry spirits. This is way bigger than our usual gig so I just think it might be a bit safer for _all_ of us if we share our information and try to figure out what the Hell this thing is," he finished. "We'll even let you guys take point."

These brothers were stubborn but, just like the previous hunters he and Alex had encountered, they believed it was their duty to look out for 'civilians'. Josh was counting on this. If they thought he and his sister would get in trouble without them, they'd agree to work together to keep their eye on them. Josh didn't figure they needed Sam and Dean's protection, but this thing was beginning to look like one of the more challenging evil things they had faced and some extra muscle would probably come in handy. These two were clearly lifers, so they likely had a lot of experience and knowledge that could come in handy trying to figure out what this thing was and how to destroy it.

Sam turned to his brother. "We really do need to figure out how to kill this thing, Dean." _They're not going to back down anyway_, his look told his brother. _Better sticking close so we can watch out for them_. He was actually welcoming the idea of working with this couple for a few days. It would give him, no _them_, a break from the constant cloud of painful memories and recent traumas that hung over their heads. They would provide Dean with a distraction, if nothing else, and a bit of relief for Sam from the crushing burden of responsibility he felt for his brother's current fragile emotional state. He was being selfish, he thought to himself guiltily, but he suddenly craved some different company, some space, some fresh air without Dean's veiled emotional pain and unspoken angst stifling him twenty-four-seven.

Dean shrugged in defeat. "Whatever, dude." This meant two more people he would have to look out for, two more people who could get hurt or even die if he screwed up. He felt an additional weight added to his already tired shoulders. As if the weight of Sam and his new abilities wasn't enough.

"But bro," Josh warned Dean with a shake of the head, "Whatever you do, don't play the '_You're a chick, you can't do that' _card. Trust me; she'll chew your head off. You've gotta be more subtle about it than that. Don't you know anything about women?"

Dean snorted loudly at the last comment, a smirk coming across his face. Yeah, t_his guy was alright. _And Hell, as far as the girl was concerned, like Josh, she had done well that night and it wouldn't hurt to have a little eye candy around for a few days.

"Out of curiosity," Sam interjected, "who's John McClane?"

Dean shook his head, embarrassed for his little brother. How was it possible that they had been raised together and be so different? "Dude, don't you ever watch movies?" Seeing the still blank look on Sam's face, he continued. "Die Hard," he explained. "Bruce Willis." Still blank. "He single handedly saves the day. Yippe Kiy Aye Yay!" Finally, Sam nodded with recognition.

It seemed an agreement had been reached when Alex returned to the room with four cold beers, handing one to each of them.

"How'd you get cold beers at three o'clock in the morning?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised as she handed him his.

"I swear, that Brody kid never goes home." Alex sat on the empty bed, Dean having taken the second chair at the table. "What can I say, he's a fan," she shrugged with a slightly embarrassed smile.

Sam laughed, remembering his spin in the Impala earlier that evening. _That was the understatement of the year._

In the spirit of working together, Sam and Dean shared the information they had picked up at the wake and at Kevin's house.

"You actually went to the kid's wake?" Alex asked, disbelievingly.

"Funerals and wakes are a great source of information," Sam explained matter-of-factly. "Everyone who knew the victim is there and they're usually already talking about how he or she died."

"And they always have the best grub," Dean chimed in, taking a drink of his beer and surprisingly starting to feel more optimistic about this shared hunt.

Josh informed the brothers that Alex and he had 'obtained' a copy of the police record of the first victim, Blake Lunden, the one who had been stabbed through the groin. The man had been accused of raping a young college girl a month or so ago when she had been back home for summer vacation but the charges had been dropped for lack of evidence. They had not found out anything useful from the widow, but Alex had gone to see the alleged rape victim, Amanda. Amanda had been very bitter and had admitted that she had spoken to a strange girl in the park the evening before Lunden had died.

"Amanda said that this girl had seemed to understand everything she was going through and had asked her exactly what Amanda thought Blake deserved," Alex explained. "Amanda had answered _'a slow, painful, humiliating death and for someone to cut off his…_" She shrugged, clearly figuring she didn't need to finish the sentence.

"So both Kevin and Amanda had beefs with a victim, and both of them spoke to some stranger about it the day before each victim died. And each victim died the exact way they had wished." Sam summarized. "What's the betting someone also had a little conversation about our bully Milton," he frowned.

"Stephen," Dean stated. "Nerdboy Troy at the wake said his friend Stephen was tied to the flagpole by Milton and that he was saying strange stuff."

"So... what?" Josh frowned. "Some kind of evil revenge genie?"

Dean shook his head fervently. "Definitely not a genie," he said knowingly. "They're actually called Djinn and trust me, you don't really get what you wish for."

"Well, we're fairly certain now it isn't the angry spirit of Old Man McCulloch," Alex pointed out. "Could it be a demon possessing different bodies to go talk to these wronged people? That would explain how it was a girl for Amanda and a man for Kevin."

Sam shook his head. "That doesn't explain what we saw. I'm guessing that was its true form. A body-possessing type of demon's true form is a cloud of black smoke."

"Well, I wasted almost two hundred dollars of silver bullets on that thing and it barely flinched," Josh spat with a rueful look.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You can buy silver bullets?"

Josh grinned. "You can buy anything, bro. You just have to know where to shop."

"You've never used silver bullets?" Alex asked, surprised that seasoned hunters like these two wouldn't use a hunter basic like silver bullets.

"Yeah, of course but Dean makes ours," Sam supplied, with no hint of shame or embarrassment at the implication of their limited means but rather pride in his brother's ingenuity and resourcefulness. "Mostly from melted-down pawn shop jewelry. This gig doesn't exactly pay well."

They tossed around a few more ideas of what this being could be but in the end, just had a list of things they were fairly certain it wasn't. Trickster was on the latter list, much to Sam's relief.

"Well, I'm going to go to the library tomorrow," Alex announced. "This town supposedly has a very old library which also houses their archives."

Sam perked up. "Maybe I'll come with you," he suggested. "We'll look into the town's history, especially the McCullochs. We need to figure out what this is before we come up against it again."

"And before it kills its next victim," Josh added.

Sam looked to Dean, who was sitting back quietly in his chair, sipping Sam's beer, having finished his own. Sam had absently pushed his over in front of Dean since he hadn't really wanted it anyway. His brother looked weary, lines of exhaustion leaving dark circles beneath his eyes, and Sam was reminded that Dean had driven well into the night last night, had not been sleeping well as it was, and it was now almost three-thirty in the morning.

"Why don't you and Josh go see this Stephen kid tomorrow?" he suggested, hoping his older brother wouldn't complain about them being separated. "We need to figure out how it picks its victims."

Dean nodded his acceptance. "Okay, sounds good." he replied lazily, draining the last of his beer. "And one of you two ladies can take me back to get my car," he added in mock sternness as he stood up to leave, pointing to the two blond siblings sitting on their respective beds.

"I'll come get you in the morning," Alex offered. "What room are you in?"

"Cabin four," Dean said, raising his arm in a tired wave goodnight to them both before closing the door behind him.

Outside, the brothers walked side by side back to the rear of the motel and across the grass to their cabin.

"I like them" Sam said thoughtfully.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Who, the Olsen twins back there? What were you thinking, Sam, _'Okay let's work together.'_" he mimicked.

Sam laughed. "They did help us out and they dug up some good information," he defended. "Besides, I figured you thought Alex was hot so you wouldn't mind working with them."

"Oh, I can think of plenty of things I wouldn't mind doing with her but hunting wasn't one of them!"

Sam smiled at the predictability of Dean's comment. "They did alright tonight."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, but do you really think they're cut out for this job? They're not exactly your typical hunters. I mean, who _buys_ silver bullets? They're like a couple of preppy kids playing hunter." He pulled out the key to unlock their door, his smirk gone. "They're just gonna get themselves killed." _Just like Ritchie, just like Isaac, just like Ronald, just like Jo was likely going to do soon enough_. _Just like Caleb and Jim Murphy and half a dozen other hunters Dean could think of. _The only hunters Dean trusted to get the job done were Bobby, his father, and Sam. And out of those three, his father was dead and Sam had already died once, his prospects of surviving the upcoming war coming in at slim to none. And Bobby... Dean grinned to himself, feeling slightly more heartened at the thought of the old grizzled hunter guru. It seemed nothing could take good old dependable Bobby down. He just hoped it stayed that way - at least there would be one left standing in the end.

SPN-SPN-SPN

_TBC..._

_This chap was basically an introduction to the OC's but the real action starts next chapter when Sam lands in some hot water. _


	5. My Big Bro Can Beat Up Your Big Bro

Chapter 5 – My Big Brother Can Beat Up Your Big Brother

It was five minutes after ten o'clock the next morning when Dean was roused from a rare, peaceful sleep by the knock on the cabin door. "Sam," he groaned, not wanting the bliss to end. The knock sounded again a few seconds later, a little louder this time. Grudgingly, Dean opened his eyes and looked around the room. Sam's bed was empty but he could hear the shower running. He dragged himself up, eyes widening when he saw the clock and realized how long he had slept. _No nightmares – awesome._

He made his way over to the door, looking through the peephole as a force of habit. Alex was standing outside, morning sun shining brightly on her blonde hair which was now twisted up in a ponytail.

Moving quickly away from the door, he fumbled for a pair of jeans. "Coming," he called, stalling for time to make himself halfway presentable. He rubbed his bleary eyes and ran a quick hand through his hair, before buttoning up his jeans, pulling on a t-shirt, and yanking the door open, greeting her with a wide smile.

She smiled back and held out a paper bag. "I brought breakfast."

Dean took the bag appreciatively, standing aside for her to come in. She was wearing a t-shirt and jogging pants and it was just his basic nature to notice how nicely she was filling them out.

"It's just muffins," she apologized. "Josh is checking out the Bronco; he'll take you guys over to get your car now if you'd like." She glanced around the room, taking note of the minimal unpacking that had taken place, a habit she and Josh shared when traveling. Always be ready for a quick and sudden departure.

"Unless you and your brother want to come for a run with me?" she offered with a hopeful smile. "Josh's ankle is still bothering him this morning so he's not up for it."

Dean had already taken a bite out of one of the chocolate chip muffins from the bag. "Run?" he questioned, his mouth still half full.

"Yeah, you know, a jog... keeping fit... exercise," she explained, rolling her eyes at the blank look on Dean's face.

Just then the bathroom door opened and a wet Sam emerged, towel around his waist. "Dude, do you know where my….oh, Alex, uhh, hi," he said sheepishly.

Alex tried to cover the widening of her eyes at the sight of Sam's impressive physique. She gave him a subtle, appreciative once over before turning back to Dean, trying to keep her cheeks from flushing. With all the excitement of last night, she hadn't noticed how attractive the younger of these hunters was in his own right. Chiseled features, cheekbones of a freaking Greek god, and huge, sensitive, puppy-dog eyes that could melt Hitler's heart. These two may not look much like brothers, but handsome features definitely ran in the family.

"Hey Sam," she answered, trying her hardest to sound casual.

"Dude, put some clothes on," scolded Dean, not missing Alex's reaction to his brother's half-naked appearance. _Damn Sammy and those ridiculous abs_. "You need to go with Josh and get my car," he instructed.

"What are you gonna do?" Sam griped, grabbing his clothes from the bag on his bed.

"I," his brother announced with a sly grin, "am going for a run."

"I'll just let you two get changed," interrupted Alex, moving toward the door. "I'll wait outside for you."

Once she had gone, Sam laughed out loud at his brother. "Dude, since when do you run?"

"Since now," Dean grinned mischievously back at Sam.

"It's official; you will do absolutely _anything_ to get into a hot girl's pants." Sam shook his head, keeping up his long-practiced pretense that Dean's wayward ways with women still bothered him. In truth, he had accepted it years ago as part of who Dean was. He knew inwardly that Dean's behavior was the result of fucked-up fear of abandonment and self-loathing issues or some shit. Issues that had seemed to have worsened in his brother during the years Sam had spent at Stanford and had definitely been amplified since their father's death.

Dean leaned over and peered outside through the crack in the curtains as he stripped off his jeans, searching for the sweats he usually wore as sleep pants in the colder climates. Alex was stretching, her arms clasped behind her back out on the cabin's porch.

"Yep," he admitted with a snicker. "Anything."

SPN-SPN-SPN

Sam strolled over to the motel room with the blue Bronco parked in front and found Josh peering in under the vehicle's open hood.

"Problems?" he asked the blonde man.

"Yeah, that fire last night did some damage after all," Josh grimaced. "And my sister's run-in with the gate and our friendly neighbourhood monster dented up the front and broke a headlight. She's drivable but I need to replace quite a few of these wires." He pointed to a charred and blackened wire near the bottom of the engine, its plastic coating melted and deformed. "We were lucky she kept going last night. I'll take you to get your car but then I'll have to park her until I get this fixed."

He closed the hood and looked up at Sam. "I need a new paint job, too," he groused, running his finger down the passenger side of the car where tiny bubbles and blisters covered the lower door panels. "Your brother coming?"

"Ah, no, he, uh, decided to go for a run," Sam replied with a roll of the eyes.

Josh's mouth tightened for an instant but he recovered quickly. "Let's go then," he said, hopping in the driver's side and roaring the Bronco's engine to life with a turn of the key.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Alex was beginning to regret asking this guy to join her on her morning run. It was later in the day than she was used to so the sun was already high in the sky, making the heat more intense than at her usual seven AM jog. Although Dean didn't strike her as a runner, more the crunches on his motel room floor type, he was definitely in excellent shape. She could usually hold her own on a run but this guy seemed determined to get her to admit she needed to slow down. She was cursing her own stubborn pride as she pushed herself to keep up, wanting to smack him when he turned around in front of her, jogging backwards, grinning and asking if he was going too fast.

"You sure?" he offered with a teasing grin.

"Nah, I'm good," she replied, trying to keep from sounding like she was panting. Why did all men believe showing off was going to impress a girl?

They jogged back into the motel parking lot to see the Impala parked next to the reversed-in Bronco at Alex's room door. Sam and Josh were leaning against the cars drinking Cokes, relaxed in casual conversation.

"Awesome, my baby's back!" Dean cooed as he ran up, tracing his hand along the line of the hood in a fond caress. "It was Sammy's fault," he told her apologetically. "You know what he can be like."

"That's your car?" Alex asked, impressed. "Sweet! No wonder you didn't want to leave her behind." She looked over the hood at Dean. "Can I take her for a spin?"

Sam nearly choked on his mouthful of Coke as his brother's eyes shot open in shocked surprise. "No!" was Dean's immediate and stern answer.

Alex just rolled her eyes_. _

Sam leaned in closer to Dean. "I guess not quite _anything_ then, huh?" he teased in a low voice.

"Not _that_!" Dean snorted, still shaking his head in disbelief.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Half an hour later the Impala purred through the streets of the small town towards the library.

"Dean, you really need to clean out your car," came Josh's voice from the back seat, followed by a peal of laughter from Alex.

"What do you mean?" said Dean indignantly. He was proud the great shape he always kept his car in. "I keep my car clean!"

Suddenly a black, lacy bra was tossed onto his lap from behind him. "Well you missed something," Josh teased. "Was caught around the seat belt buckle."

Sam's mouth opened wide at the sight of the bra. "Dean!" he whined. "We made a deal, not in the car! I sit in here all day too, you know."

Dean blushed slightly, pulling over sharply in front of the old, Victorian style library. "This is your stop," he announced to his brother, hoping it would ward off the reprimand.

"How does a girl not notice she isn't wearing it when she leaves?" Alex asked nobody in particular as she stepped out of the back door. Sam was still glaring at Dean.

"Listen, it must have been from ages ago," Dean said truthfully, having no idea the bra actually belonged to Ruby. "I swear." Dean waved Sam to get out as Josh was now standing outside the car door, waiting for the passenger seat to be freed up. "Go get your geek on."

Sam feigned annoyance and huffed at his brother before pushing the Impala's door open with a creak and following Alex towards the library entrance. Josh turned towards his sister before getting back in the car.

"Take care, Sis," he called to her. She rolled her eyes but threw him a wave as she stepped through the doors behind the youngest Winchester.

As the older pair pulled away from the curb, Dean threw the bra at his passenger. "Asshole," he scolded with a grin.

Josh laughed. "Sorry man, I didn't mean for you to get in trouble with your ol' lady!"

SPN-SPN-SPN

Troy's friend Stephen turned out to be Stephen Calder, at least that was the only Stephen Dean and Josh had been able to find on last year's Political Science Club listed on the school's website. Since it was Saturday and school was out, they parked outside his house, waiting for a chance to speak to the kid alone. Dean leafed through the box of fake ID's, relishing in how impressed Josh was with the collection.

"You even have _Homeland Security_?" Josh held the ID up in awe. "That's heavy, bro." They settled on FBI Special Agents Gilmour and Waters, Josh being a huge Pink Floyd fan. The two older brothers chatted casually about music, shared stories about hot dates that had ended badly, and debated the all-time ultimate guy question: _which is better, Ford or Chevy_?

Dean found himself glad for the short reprieve from his brother's constant scrutiny. Sam had developed a new habit of always studying him to see if he was alright, if he was 'dealing'. It was exhausting, pretending to be okay. Pretending these new nightmares weren't that bad. Pretending he wasn't so screwed up most of the time he didn't want to get out of bed in the morning. Pretending he was okay with the weird shit Sam was able to do. Pretending they could just go from hunt to hunt like everything was the way it used to be.

Pretending he hadn't been to Hell.

After about an hour and a half, they spotted Stephen leaving his house alone and on foot, back-pack slung over his shoulder.

"This is too easy," grinned Dean, waiting until the teenager was a couple of blocks away before tailing the Impala after him, pulling over sharply next him and hopping out quickly. Josh did the same on the other side, more slowly as he was still considerably favouring his left ankle.

"Excuse me, Stephen Calder?" Josh asked with an authoritative tone.

The kid stopped warily and looked at them both, his bangs hanging in his face. "Y-yeah. Wh-who are you?" He was sporting a bit of the goth look with a black jacket and jeans and dyed-black hair.

Dean flashed the badge. "Special Agents Gilmour and Waters with the FBI," he announced, heaping on the intimidation. "Can we have a word with you?"

Stephen stood still, nervously fingering the Celtic cross on his necklace. "I'm sixteen," he stammered. "Don't you need my parents around to question me?"

Damn, kids were getting too smart these days. "We just want to ask you a few questions about Milton Redgrove. It won't take long," Dean pressured sternly.

"Look, we don't want to give you a hard time, just a couple of simple, harmless questions," Josh added, smoothly taking Sam's usual role of good cop. "If you don't want to answer, we'll stop, go get your parents, and go down to the police station."

The kid seemed to think this over then nodded in agreement to the first option.

"Right," Dean continued, "Seems like Milton was a bit of a jerk, is that right?"

Stephen nodded fervently. "The guy was a major asshole!"

"Well, from what we hear, you may have been talking about him to someone the day before he died," Dean stated. "Can you tell us about that?"

The kid started to look nervous again, glancing back and forth between Dean and Josh. "What do you mean?" he stammered.

Josh stepped in, his limp still apparent. "Look, kid, we know you didn't do anything, we just need to talk to this person. Can you tell us about it?"

Stephen swallowed. "Well, I was sitting under the highway bridge smoking a reef…uh, a cigarette one night, you know, the one by the 7-11, and the dude just walked on over and sat down next to me. I had never seen him before. I don't think he went to our school. He started talking about Milton and he seemed to know everything about him. He knew what Milton did to me with the flagpole," he looked up sharply at Dean, as if realizing these feds may not have been aware of that incident.

"Yeah, we heard about that. We're sorry bro; that must have been rough." Josh encouraged him to continue.

"Well, I guess lots of people knew about that," he said. "But nobody knew about the toilet thing, and he had somehow heard about that, too."

"Toilet thing?" Dean asked, curiously.

The kid hung his head. "I'd rather not talk about it," he croaked.

"Alright buddy, we get it. Tell us more about this kid. What did he say about Milton?" Dean pressed.

"Well, nothing, really. That was it."

"Are you sure?" Josh pressured.

Stephen just nodded.

Dean sighed. "Okay kid. We're trying to keep this conversation unofficial, this being a small town and all. We don't want word to get out about this, but we happen to know you and this kid talked about what you would like to see happen to Milton." He straightened himself up to his full six foot one and moved a step closer to the teen, folding his arms across his chest and frowning. "Tell us exactly what was said or we're going downtown."

The boy took a step back, the intimidation working. "Okay, okay," he relented. "But I swear, I had no idea what was going to happen to Milton! The dude asked me what I would like to see happen and I said someone should pants him and skewer him on the flagpole. I know that's weird 'cause that's what happened and all, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it!"

"We believe you," Josh assured him. "What did this kid look like?"

"Normal, I guess. He was just normal, like, my age, brown hair, jeans," Stephen shrugged.

"Okay, kiddo, you did good. Now do me a favour. Go ask your Mom to enroll you in Martial Arts or a self-defense class or something," Dean waved the kid on.

"And if a bully picks on you at school," called Josh after him as the kid sped down the street, "Tell somebody!"

Dean raised his eyebrows at Josh. "Tell somebody? Jesus, you're worse than Sammy!"

"Hey, not every kid is good at fighting. Some just don't have it in them."

They got back in the car, Dean still shaking his head. "Well, three definitely makes a pattern. And it seems this thing knows things, secrets, so I'm thinking it can read minds or something."

"Creepy," said Josh with a grimace.

"That didn't take long," Dean observed as he started up the Impala. "What's next, you figure?"

Josh grinned. "Well, we've dropped the kids off at school; what do you say us grown-ups go have a game of pool and grab some chow?"

Dean steered his baby out into the light traffic and laughed. "I like the way you think."

"Then we could either go help out with the research... or we could grab some cold ones and you can help me fix the burnt wiring and headlight on the Bronco."

"Wouldn't want to leave a buddy without full use of his ride," was Dean's grinned reply as they headed towards the bar at the motel. Dean had never cared for research, especially the library variety - that was Sammy's gig. Drinking beer and working on cars... yup, that suited him nicely.

SPN-SPN-SPN

For a small town, the McCulloch Town Library had quite an impressive section on the supernatural, with books on everything from occultism to vampires to ancient mythological creatures. Sam and Alex decided to spend a little time browsing in this section before hitting the archives to check out the history of the town. It was their hope that, as was often the case, they could find some of the lesser known lore and legends that weren't referenced on the web in these books. Books tended to be a more accurate and reliable source also, with so much of the online information using Hollywood as its main source rather than actual lore. Within half an hour, they were both sitting at a large table with dozens of books spread out around them, much to the annoyance of the elderly librarian who kept hovering around and peering over her eyeglasses at them with a scowl. Apparently, she liked to keep things neat.

A couple of hours later, Sam was completely engrossed in a book recounting the various Taoist deities when he heard a gasp from Alex. He looked up to see her staring at a picture in one of the older texts, eyes wide and face white.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is that our boy?"

Alex looked up, clearly shaken. "No, uh, not ours. It's just…" she trailed off, staring down at the picture again before turning her head to the adjacent page to read the accompanying text.

"Well, something about that picture scared you," Sam pressed. He got up and came around the table, taking a seat in the chair next to hers. The picture was of a black, shadowy creature with red, glowing eyes. He looked up at Alex, who still looked frightened but also excited at the same time. "A Shadow being," he read aloud. "Usually black with red, glowing eyes, they have been known to appear fleetingly from one's peripheral vision. The malevolent feelings witnesses experience during their presence leads people to speculate they could be demonic in nature."

"Well, it definitely isn't what we're after but it obviously means something to you," he hinted.

Alex kept reading for a few more seconds before her face visibly relaxed. "It's not him – it's nothing," she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Just a scary picture is all."

"It's not who?" Sam pushed.

"Eh, it's kind of a long story," she said evasively.

"I have time," he challenged, holding her gaze.

She looked away and closed the book with a thud. "You know what?" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "It's lunchtime and I'm starving. Let's go across the street to that café and grab a bite to eat."

Sam smiled. He would let it go for now but her reaction had definitely piqued his interest. "Sure, sounds like a good idea." He grabbed his coat and they headed for the door. Sam stopped by the Librarian's desk on the way out. "Uh, ma'am," he smiled politely. "My friend and I aren't finished studying for our paper. We're just going across the street for a quick bite to eat so we left our books out on the table in the meantime. Is that alright?"

She glared up at him. "I suppose it doesnay matter if it's just for a wee while," she replied tartly in a thick Scottish accent, turning away and back to her work.

As soon as they reached the stairwell, the Sam and Alex burst out laughing. "What a freaking tight ass!" Alex exclaimed. "What is it about librarians?"

The café turned out to be fairly busy. Apparently Borne was a bustling tourist town for two weeks every year during the annual Gaelic Games Festival. Sam and Alex took a small table in the back corner and browsed the menus while waiting for their very cheery waitress to come over.

"Hi sweeties, what can I get you today?" she bubbled.

"Can I have your grilled chicken sandwich with fries?" Alex asked. "Oh, and a coffee, black please."

The forty-something waitress, Betty according to her nametag, turned to Sam. "And you handsome? What'll you have?"

"A Reuben with side salad, thanks," Sam smiled back, flushing as he always did when women commented on his looks.

"And to drink?"

"Uh, a half caf double vanilla latte, if you have it."

Alex snorted as she watched the waitress leave. "Oh my God, you're as bad as Josh with his _caramel macchiato with extra vanilla and low-fat whipped cream_," she mimicked sarcastically.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Bad enough I get this from Dean, I'm gonna catch slack from you too now?"

"Na, it's refreshing to see a guy comfortable enough in his masculinity to order a girly drink," she teased.

"Well, I hope for his sake your brother doesn't order a caramel macchiato around Dean," Sam joked.

"Huh, Josh can hold his own," she laughed. "Besides, I don't think your brother's as tough as he makes out to be."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. Dean was by far the toughest guy he knew, and that included their father. Although Sam would never admit it to his brother, Dean was a better fighter than Sam. He thought quickly on his feet and his ability to keep getting right back up no matter how many times he got knocked down, even if he was only partially conscious, had always amazed Sam. And he wasn't above playing dirty if he needed to. Sam didn't doubt Josh probably had some skills, maybe more than he looked like he had anyway, but not anywhere near in Dean's league. "You have no idea how wrong you are there," he retorted, a little defensively.

"Well, in my experience, most guys with as much attitude as Dean are all talk."

"Actually, anybody with Dean's attitude would be dead a dozen times over if he couldn't put his fists where his mouth is. My brother has a knack for letting his mouth get him in trouble. I almost hate letting him go off on his own these days," Sam shook his head, thinking of the latest incident just a week ago when Dean got into a bar fight by throwing cocky insults at the three guys he was hustling at pool. Since Hell, he just didn't seem to give a shit, like he almost seemed to welcome trouble.

Alex laughed. "You can lighten up Sam," she assured him. "I was actually referring to his being a decent guy under the tough-guy image. Josh pegs people pretty accurately and he figures Dean's alright once you get to know him." She sat back in her chair, looking thoughtfully at Sam before adding, "Though I'm guessing not a lot of people get to do that."

Sam relaxed a bit. He had been a little worried she hadn't thought too highly of his brother and had guessed Dean had perhaps tried some insulting sleazy come-on line with her. Hopefully he would behave himself enough to keep things from getting awkward during this hunt. Dean did usually made a point not to mix work and his 'extra-curricular activities'. Sure he got a lot of phone numbers, but he mostly waited until between hunts to call them up. Sam guessed this was so he could make a quick getaway afterwards since the brothers always left town in good time once the job was done.

Sam cocked his head with a half nod, admitting she was right. "That's pretty astute of you from one day's observation," he praised.

"Blame that on my big brother, Dr. Phil. The guy's a genius at reading people. Give him two days with the pair of you, he'll tell you the deep-seeded psychological reason you chew your food the way you do." She sat back and ran her hand through her blonde hair.

_Jess used to do just that_. The thought caught Sam by surprise and he shook his head to get rid of the fleeting memory of Jessica. So much had happened in the three years since her death, he found himself thinking of her less and less. Of course, he very rarely found himself sharing a casual lunch or even an actual conversation with a girl these days. The only woman he had spent any time with was Ruby, and their conversations were all shop talk. He returned his attention to Alex, noticing how she smiled fondly every time she spoke of her brother, even if she was making fun.

"And he always wants to talk about things!" she continued, rolling her eyes.

"Things?"

"Yeah, you know, feelings and shit."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "Now you sound just like Dean! I can't get him to talk about anything that even remotely passes as an emotion. He'll let something tear him to pieces inside before he'll share anything about how he's feeling." He glanced up at Alex, who was looking at him with a thoughtful expression. "Sorry," he sighed, "but it can be frustrating, you know. He's been through a lot and he just won't let me in." He couldn't believe he was spilling his guts to a complete stranger.

His sadness and worry must have been written all over his face for her expression softened.

"Maybe he just doesn't want you to worry," she said, surprisingly taking Dean's side. "Maybe he doesn't want to dwell on whatever's happened and wants to be able to move on, enjoy what's left. I'm sure it has nothing to do with you that he doesn't want to talk about... whatever it is." She reached out as if to put her hand on his but stopped short, curling her fingers in and putting it down instead on the table in front of his, not quite touching. Sam got the distinct impression that was as much emo-crap, as Dean liked to call it, as this girl would give without letting her guard down.

"Give him time, give him some space. Just make sure you're there when he does need to talk to you," she finished.

"Are we still talking about Dean?" Sam tilted his head, one side of his upper lip twitching in curiosity. "Cause it sounds like maybe someone has repressed emotions of her own here."

Alex pulled her hand back quickly, laughing loudly, and was rescued by the waitress returning with their coffees.

"Now what is so funny over here?" Betty asked, amused.

"Oh nothing; we were just having a friendly game of 'my-big-brother-can-beat-up-your-big-brother," Alex grinned.

Betty chuckled. "Now, isn't that game supposed to be played with daddies?" she mused, placing their drinks in front of them.

The rest of their conversation over lunch was a sharing of histories, though mostly to the efforts of Alex, it was Sam who ended up doing the majority of the sharing. Sam had to give her credit, her skills at deflecting any conversation about herself rivaled those of his brother. He had answered many of her questions about his family, telling her about the yellow-eyed demon that had killed Mary Winchester. He even told her their real names, though immediately after it had come out of his mouth he thought he probably shouldn't have as their new friends didn't seem to have any trouble accessing police databases and would no doubt look the Winchesters up. He may have to later explain their current 'deceased' status in the FBI's records. He told her of Stanford and of Jessica's death. She seemed to understand completely why he had followed Dean back into hunting.

Sam did manage to keep quite a bit of information out of the conversation. He didn't mention his abilities, their part in opening the Devil's Gate, his father's deal or his brother's deal and subsequent trip to hell, or their involvement in the current Demon war and he definitely didn't mention angels and Lucifer's seal being broken one by one. He told her that his dad was killed while hunting the Yellow-Eyed Demon a couple of years ago but that eventually Dean had shot and killed it with a special gun made by Samuel Colt.

"So why do you guys keep hunting?" she asked. "If it was all about revenge for your parents and Jessica, well you got the demon that did it. Moby Dick is toast, Ahab. Why don't you just quit?"

"Same as you guys, I guess," Sam shrugged. "We know what's out there. The evil things, whether demons or spirits or monsters, are going to keep on killing people and hurting other families. We can't just ignore them now and live some sort of normal life like they don't exist."

Alex looked thoughtful for a moment. "Would you want a normal life?" she asked.

"I used to," he replied with a sigh. "It was all I wanted, actually, even after Jess died. But so much has happened this past year or so," he looked down. "I just don't think it's in the cards for me anymore."

She sighed. "Yeah, me neither. But I wish Josh could have one," she added, almost wistfully.

"Your turn," Sam said, seizing the opportunity. "I've told you everything," he lied. "So where did you grow up?"

She spoke of growing up in Malibu and then Santa Cruz, California until she was seventeen, but cleverly changed the subject when it came to why she had left. In response to his questions about her parents, she told him they had been killed by burglars during a home invasion gone wrong when she was a teenager. She told him Josh had spent almost four years at Stanford studying Criminal Psychology, his last term right before Sam had started there. When he asked where she lived now, she simply said she and Josh moved around a lot. When asked why, she replied vaguely that they wanted to travel and see more of the country.

"Are you sure you two aren't full-time hunters?" Sam asked. "Cause you seem to live a lot like most of us do."

"Okay, Barbara Walters," she quipped. "Enough with the questions. Besides, do we look like your typical hunters?" she asked.

"What are typical hunters supposed look like?" Sam asked, slightly defensive.

"You hunters are all so, uh, so... rural. You know, the way you dress, the old cars or old trucks you drive, you all look right at home walking around with a shotgun in your hands," she laughed. "You use words like _y'all_ and _grandpappy_. You never see a hunter wearing shorts, or driving a Kia or a sportbike. And they hang out in biker bars, never dance clubs. And they tend to be anti-social, even amongst themselves." She looked up apologetically, "Present company excluded, of course."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Of course."

"And they don't seem to have any interests or hobbies outside of hunting, except maybe shooting and drinking. They're almost as obsessive as the spirits and demons they hunt," she continued.

Sam laughed. He had never really thought about it but her observations were, in general, pretty accurate. Off the top of his head, he could think of one obvious exception. "Actually, I knew a man that you'd never have guessed was a hunter. Jim Murphy was a legitimate Pastor in Blue Earth, Minnesota. He was a hunter purely out of a will to do good - no revenge, no obsessions."

Alex raised her eyebrows at him. "A Pastor. Really? Handy source for your holy water supply," she acknowledged, standing up as they got ready to leave.

"Supply?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Oh my God, Alex. I'll have to teach you amateurs how to make your own holy water," he scoffed. These two bought silver bullets and had to ask for Holy Water? Maybe Dean had been right about them being out of their league.

Back at the library, they were greeted by yet another scowl from the librarian. Ignoring her glowering, they delved right back into the research, the next hour not turning up anything useful. Finally, Sam found something interesting.

"Hey, listen to this," he exclaimed. "This is a book on Celtic Gods and Deities. This one, Arawn, was a God in the Kingdom of the Dead, but was also known as a God of Revenge. The lore dates back to ancient Scotland and Wales."

"Revenge, huh? That certainly fits. And this town has a strong Scottish heritage," Alex pointed out. "What else?"

Sam continued. "Well, legend has it that he resides in the Otherworld, which is Hell," he clarified, "But has been known to travel to the world of man through a magic portal to hunt. This portal is protected by his followers in this world. He comes here at nights to collect souls of the dead and escort them back to the Otherworld." Sam flipped the book around to face Alex, pointing to the picture. "That's him."

The artist's rendition of Arawn was a large, fierce-looking creature with short, thick horns, a wide mouth, and dark, grey robes. Alex whistled, "Now that could be our boy," she muttered in agreement.

They spent the next half hour digging for more information on this Arawn, hoping to find mention of some way of killing him, but with no luck. One story went that Arawn had become angry with a man he encountered while on a hunt in this world and, as punishment, switched places with the human for a year, each living the other's lives in each other's forms. After living for a year in this world, Arawn began to come back to it more frequently, having become good friends with the man. He would roam the man's land at night, but in order to leave the man's property, he would have to put on a disguise, usually taking the form of an ordinary human.

_A God_? Alex felt her heart beating loudly in her chest as they kept reading. This Arawn certainly fit the MO but... _a God_? This was definitely a step up from her and Josh's usual gigs. She was impressed and somewhat comforted by the fact that Sam didn't seem particularly intimidated or daunted by the fact that they had just potentially identified their foe as a God. Was this an average job for them? Damn, these Winchesters were major league players.

They decided to move on to the town's archives. The librarian seemed to get more annoyed with them as the day wore on, glaring angrily at them every time they pulled another box from the shelves. Sam figured she was probably grudging having to make sure it was all put away in the right spot and made an extra effort to keep the papers organized.

The cemetery was indeed on the old McCulloch family land, which still covered about twenty square miles on the Western side of town, right up to the river that formed the boundary of the township. There were two houses on the property, the large mansion built by Angus Alistair McCulloch himself back in 1754, where he lived with his wife and his brother, Dougal. The second house was smaller, built in 1760 for Angus' daughter Mary and her husband, Hamish.

The town records were very well kept and very thorough. The titles for every property in the old town were listed from 1751 onward in ten large volumes, all appearing to be written in the same hand, which was weird. Sam concentrated on the McCulloch property, it being the only one with any relevance at this point. It had never been sold or divided up, but had been inherited several times through the years and was currently listed under a Mr. Benjamin Darius.

Alex had been scrolling through the news archives for other strange deaths in the town's history. "Okay, check this out!" she called to Sam when he looked up from his own reading to loosen his shoulders with a full-on cat-like stretch of his long arms behind his head.

"What have you got?"

"In 1993 there were seven deaths here all within ten or so days, some of them really strange. One guy died from severe heatstroke, or rather the sun sizzled him black, _in December_!" Alex pointed to a rather grizzly photo that had been published in the local paper back in 1993. "A lady got mauled by some wild beast, another lady drowned in her bathtub, one guy choked while eating his divorce papers, two elderly brothers died in their sleep of apparent natural causes, and a kid got hit by a bus while crossing the street."

"A lot to happen in one small town in less than two weeks," Sam agreed. "And choking on divorce papers sounds a lot like Patricia Waldor."

"And back in 1954," Alex continued, "There were another seven mysterious deaths in the span of a week or so also. Though these aren't as well documented, one died in a housefire, another drowned, one was stabbed, one was beaten to death, one just went missing, and an old man and his wife both died of natural causes the same night."

"In 1936, same thing. There were five bizarre deaths, one suicide by hanging, and one elderly guy just died in his sleep. I found a few more in 1908," she added, "but the paper was a regional one back then so not much local stuff, the town was pretty small. Other clusters of deaths happened in 1882 and that's as far back as I got."

"1993, 1936, and 1882?" Sam repeated, thoughtfully, jumping up and going back to his notes at the other side of the table. "Guess what happened in each of those years?" he asked, not waiting for a reply. "December 1993, the McCulloch land was owned by Harold Jenkins, who died that month and left the property to Benjamin Darius."

"Harold Jenkins?" Alex looked back down at her papers. "Harold Jenkins and his brother Wade were the two old men that died of natural causes that week."

He flipped a few more pages. "June 1936," he continued, "McCulloch property was owned by Jeremy McTavish, who died that month, leaving the entire estate to Harold Jenkins."

Alex was flipping through her research, grinning excitedly. "Jeremy McTavish was the 1936 man who died in his sleep."

"And in 1882, "Sam finished, "The McCulloch property was inherited from a Blaine Rupert to a Mr. Jeremy McTavish." He closed the book with a satisfied thud and looked at Alex expectantly. She confirmed their suspicions.

"Yes, 1882, Blaine Rupert died in a logging accident."

"There's definitely a connection – this is no coincidence" Sam said, rubbing his hand over his mouth in thought. "I'm just not sure what it is. Every time the owner of the McCulloch land dies, there are several deaths in town. But other clusters of deaths have happened without the owner dying," he added thoughtfully.

The librarian was approaching, the usual angry scowl on her face. Alex looked up, apologetically. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," she said, sheepishly. "Were we too loud? We got a little excited there."

There were two men behind her and when she stopped at the end of their table, they kept walking, one approaching on either side of the table. Sam felt Alex tense and he stood up quickly, moving in front of her slightly. There was something threatening about the way these guys were approaching. "Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked calmly. They kept coming, rounding the ends of the tables as Sam and Alex backed up to the large bookshelves behind them.

The men stopped about three feet in front of Sam. They were both in their mid to late thirties, well-built and showed no sign of humour in their faces. The one closest to Sam had a beard and spoke first. "Why don't you two just come with us?" His accent carried a slight Scottish lilt and his words were not spoken as a question or friendly suggestion.

"Who are you?" Alex asked, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

"Just come with us please," the second man said sternly, turning slightly and waving his hand in the direction of the back of the library.

"Is there a problem?" Sam asked again, with no reply. "Look," he warned, "I suggest you two back off because we aren't going anywhere with you."

"Just grab them!" the librarian hissed from behind the table and the man on Alex's side lunged for her. Alex stepped back and avoided him and Sam quickly threw a punch at him, hitting him square in the jaw. Sam grabbed Alex's wrist and the two of them tried to step past him towards the door, but the bearded guy behind Sam rushed up and grabbed the hunter from behind around the neck.

Sam elbowed him in the gut but the man barely seemed to flinch. The clean-shaven one was back on his feet and Sam could see him lunging again for Alex, who ducked to the side and threw him a decent punch before scooting past him towards the librarian. Sam was still jabbing the guy who had a hold of him from behind, wondering how this dude was still hanging on after all the blows he had landed on him. Either he was cranked on some major PCP-type drugs, or there was something supernatural about him. The younger Winchester looked up to see Alex push past the librarian and grab one of the narrow, wooden card catalogue drawers that had been sitting on the table. She raced around the table and swung it heavily at the guy who had a hold of Sam, who loosened his grip just enough to allow Sam to twist around and land a very nice punch on his face. The clean-shaven attacker was now swinging at Sam from behind, so the hunter spun to face him. Sam took a couple of really hard hits to the chin before barreling straight into him, taking him off his feet with a crash. _Damn, these guys were strong!_

Sam scuffled on the floor with one of the men for what seemed like minutes, unable to see what was happening with Alex. _Damnit! He could really use Dean right now!_ The human tank managed to get to his feet and landed a hard kick in Sam's gut before Sam in turn kicked his attacker's feet out, rolling out of the way quickly and coming up on top of the guy where he fell, punching furiously at his face. Most men would be unconscious after this many well-aimed blows from a trained fighter like Sam, but this freaking terminator just kept coming back at him.

The man managed to roll Sam off him and took a swing but missed as Sam rolled away. The hunter glanced over towards the other scuffling noises he heard and saw the bearded guy holding Alex against the end of one of the giant bookshelves, hand around her neck with her feet in the air. She was kicking madly at him and although the kicks were landing hard, he was barely flinching, squeezing his fingers around her neck. After one well-aimed kick landed right in his groin, he tensed, growled, then pulled her head forward for a second before slamming her hard back against the bookshelf with an angry shout. Sam saw Alex's eyes roll white and her body go limp.

With renewed fear and anger, Sam lunged towards the bearded guy who simply looked at him and smiled as he dropped Alex to the floor. Sam never reached him though, as the first man tackled him from behind, knocking him to the ground again. This time they were both on him, and Sam was fighting furiously to avoid the savage, steady stream of blows that were being unleashed upon him. He miraculously managed to get one guy in a chokehold and was halfway to his feet when the other guy landed a kick right in the side of his knee, sending a shock of pain right through him and forcing a sharp cry from his lips. He was about to swing back when he heard shouting.

"Enough! Enough!" shrieked the voice of the librarian. The two men eased off for a second, allowing Sam to glance over in her direction. She was standing over Alex's unconscious form, pointing a 9mm Beretta Brigadier at the girl's head. "Give it up or your girlfriend dies!" she spat at Sam.

SPN-SPN-SPN

_**TBC...**_

_Thanks again for the reviews, faves, and alerts! Next chap, Sam's in serious trouble and Dean's... well, Dean's drinking beer, but not for the whole chapter, I promise, haha._


	6. All Librarians Seem Fishy to Me

**Chapter 6 – All Librarians Seem Fishy to Me**

Dean was feeling more relaxed than he had in months. Despite his initial impression of Josh as a preppy pretty-boy who was everything Dean wasn't, the guy was actually decent company and the jaded hunter found it hard not to like him.

After their quick and easy job scoring the information from the Stephen kid, the pair had enjoyed a leisurely lunch at the bar by the motel. They were both excessively charming and charismatic to the attractive waitress but it was Dean she finally slipped her number to, scooping his cell off the table and programming it in for him with a wink, much to Josh's chagrin. Although Josh was a pretty good player, Dean had easily beaten him at pool three times in a row before he had decided he had been humiliated enough and suggested they go get the parts for the Bronco. While in the local service station, Josh picked up a case of beer, insisting that working on the car was strenuous, thirsty work that couldn't be done without the proper hydration. Dean wasn't about to disagree.

They were now back at the motel. Josh was repairing the wires from under the car and Dean was busy replacing the front headlight.

"Man, she's leaking like a sieve under here," Josh commented.

"That's what you get for driving a Ford," Dean teased.

Josh laughed. "Next time that sucker throws a fireball at us, let's make sure we're in your ride. See how well she takes it."

"I don't put my baby in the line of fire," Dean retorted. "I park her safely on the sidelines."

"Well, you don't have a sister who thinks a car is just a car and disregards that rule on a regular basis," Josh pointed out, pulling himself out from under the Bronco to grab a sip of his beer.

"Oh yeah? I'm not so sure about that," Dean laughed, thinking to himself of the time he had tried to teach Sam how to do some basic work on the Impala. Sam was sharp and could probably memorize the manual front to back, but he just didn't have a feel for cars, that instinct that automatically let Dean know what was wrong under the Chevy's hood.

"So tell me something, Dean. Do you guys actually have a home, like a house or an apartment somewhere?" Josh asked curiously. "Or do you live in motel rooms?"

"Motel rooms," Dean replied, matter-of-factly.

"So your car is your home," Josh concluded.

Dean nodded. "Closest thing I've ever had to one," he admitted, though that wasn't exactly right. Dean didn't have a home, didn't feel he needed a home. He and Sam in the Impala together was like being at home, at least, it was like he had always imagined having a home would feel like. That feeling he would get like there's no place he'd rather be.

Last time he actually had a permanent civic address was before his Mom had died. He tried not to think of that time too much; even his limited memories of it always gave him an aching feeling inside. Remembering the life he had lost that night just emphasized what he was missing now, and he would rather convince himself that he didn't know or care what having those things felt like. What having a father who wanted to play catch with him in the yard felt like. What playing with friends in the park and hanging his drawings proudly on the fridge felt like. What having a mother tell him she loved him felt like.

He snapped out of his melancholy train of thought to find Josh standing quietly, studying him while taking a sip of his beer. "What?" Dean said gruffly.

Josh smiled lightly, "Nothin' bro. Didn't want to disturb your little Yodi moment."

"So where do you two live?" Dean deflected quickly.

"All over. Right now we're in Dayton, Ohio," Josh answered.

"If you aren't hunters, do you have a civilian job?" Dean asked, curious if these two siblings operated like Bobby. Bobby owned and ran his salvage yard and actually earned an honest income, though he had been spending more and more time helping Dean and Sam out since their father had died. Hunting was his main focus, but he still managed to retain some semblance of a normal life between hunts - it wasn't all he was.

Josh grinned at him. "Yeah, I work. Right now I work in a garage, though I've probably been fired since I was supposed to be back to work three days ago. Before that I operated a back-hoe for an excavation company. Before that I fixed computers at a tech store. I worked at a car dealership last year, at a marina before that, and I even worked with a private detective for a couple of months before that."

"A private dick?" Dean snickered. "Appropriate."

"It sucked. It was all about either tracking down people's ex's or catching cheating spouses." Josh shook his head. "Gets old fast and the stakeouts are boring."

"So you're pretty much telling me you can't hold a steady job," Dean teased, growing more curious as he thought about Josh and Alex traveling and going from odd job to odd job. "So how do you afford all your expensive equipment?" he asked, remembering Sam drooling over the laptop and that these two actually bought their silver bullets.

Josh's smile faded for a brief minute and he shrugged. "Our parents died about seven years ago. They left us an inheritance and some insurance money," he supplied. "We've invested a lot of it so we do all right, but moving around gets expensive, so I work to generate some sort of honest income." He glanced up at Dean before lowering himself back to the ground to get back under the Bronco. "How about you two?" he asked, allowing Dean to skip the awkward expressing of condolences about his parents. "I never understood how hunters lived if they don't have jobs, and that Chevy of yours must cost you a fortune in gas, driving all around the country. Guns and ammo sure aren't cheap either. How do you pay for it all?"

Dean cleared his throat. "You don't want to know," he evaded. "What does Alex do?"

Josh laughed, this subject thankfully bringing the levity back to the conversation. "Whatever the hell she wants! She figures if we're gonna move again then the job's not permanent so she goes out and does whatever tickled her fricking fancy," he explained, raising his voice so he could be heard from beneath the car. "Right now, she's teaching rock-climbing at a local outfitters. In Little Rock she worked as a lifeguard. In Louisiana, she lasted three days as a tour guide in an old prison before she locked some obnoxious guy in one of the cells and left him there while she just continued on with the tour. Uh, let's see, in Maine she worked with a white-water rafting outfitter. She actually stuck that one out the whole summer. She was a model at a Ferrari showroom for all of two weeks once but she got fed up 'cause they wouldn't let her drive the cars. She just..." He frowned slightly, the creases in his forehead deepening. "She just has a harder time fitting in is all."

Dean was surprised that Alex's resume suggested she was flighty when she had seemed anything but. "Why do you guys move around so much?" he asked.

"Long story," Josh answered as he pulled himself back out from under the Bronco to reach for a replacement cable. He didn't offer any more and Dean didn't push.

Two hours later the repairs were done, with the exception of a couple of dents in the front fender and the bubbles in the paint job. Dean frowned at his watch – it was almost five o'clock. Sam hadn't called since lunchtime; they must be almost done their research by now. He dialed his brother's number but got no answer.

"I'll try Lex," Josh offered. No answer there either.

"Let's head over there anyway," Dean suggested. "The library closes at five."

The elderly librarian was just locking up the doors when they pulled up in the Impala. There was no sign of Sam and Alex outside. "Wait, wait!" Dean called to her. She stopped and gave him an impatient stare.

"Is there anyone still in there?" he asked her.

"No. The library's closed," she replied curtly and continued to close the door.

"Did you see tall guy with a blonde girl in there?" Josh asked, landing his foot heavily in the doorway and jamming it open slightly. She glared at him for a few seconds before answering.

"They left," was all she said. Neither Dean nor Josh missed the nervous look she gave them before quickly averting her eyes.

"When?" asked Dean.

"A while ago."

"Did you see where they went?"

"I don't follow the patrons out the door!" she snapped, clearly irritated.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I'm just trying to find my brother." Dean tried to keep his tone civil. "Did you hear them mention where they might have gone?"

"No," was her quick-tempered reply. She slammed the door closed and they heard the dead-bolt snap in place.

Dean briefly considered kicking the door in. Something was not quite right here but that would probably be considered excessive at this point. He let the flicker of worry pass over his face before he turned to Josh.

"Where do you think they might have gone?" he asked.

The worry he saw in Josh's face was far more than a flicker. Brow furrowed anxiously, he replied, "I don't know. It's really not like Lexie to not answer her phone and she would have called if they had gone somewhere else."

"Let's check the café across the street," Dean suggested, not wanting to jump to any hasty conclusions. Sam was a big boy. The situation didn't yet warrant his patented full-out big-brother protective rant just yet.

After not finding them in the café or any surrounding shops and another round of unanswered phone calls to both younger siblings' cells, both motel rooms, and to Brody at the motel's front desk (who hadn't seen them), Dean was starting to reach rant mode. Josh, on the other hand, was way past it and looked exceedingly agitated.

"Hey, they'll be okay; we'll find them," Dean assured him.

Josh looked at him intently, obviously contemplating something. "If Lex got hurt, what would Sam do?"

"What do you mean?" Dean didn't understand where the question was leading.

"If she was hurt, would he take her to the hospital?" It was a simple question.

"Yeah, of course he would, but we got no reason to assume they've been hurt. Dude, you need to chill."

"Please let's just go and check out the hospital," Josh said, not really voicing it as a request and opening the passenger door of the Impala. Dean didn't argue and got behind the wheel, steering the Chevy towards the town's medical center.

They walked up to the registration desk and Josh addressed the pretty brunette behind the counter.

"Excuse me, can you tell me if an Alexis Driscoll has been admitted here?"

She smiled up at him, obviously taking note of the blue eyes and dimples. "Uh, let me check," she answered sweetly, turning to her computer. "Nope, nobody by that name," she said apologetically.

"How about Alex Barlow?" Josh pressed. "Her maiden name," he added quickly in way of explanation.

"No, sorry," the girl answered.

"How about any twenty-five year old blonde girl?" He was starting to look a little relieved.

"Nobody with that description," the girl assured him. "Has there been an accident?" she asked gravely, though her smile reappeared when she noticed Dean standing next to Josh.

Josh shook his head, "No, I'm just worried about someone. Can you just check one more name please? Sam, uhh..." he looked at Dean.

"Sam Collins," Dean supplied, after scrambling to remember the latest ID with insurance that he and Sam were using.

The girl checked one more time, this time directing her answer with a smile now aimed at Dean. "Nope, your friends are probably fine because they're not here."

"Thank-you." Josh walked away from the desk, followed by Dean, who gave a departing smile and wink to the brunette, making her blush.

"Satisfied?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you but Lexie _always_ answers her phone."

"Look, I'll admit something's hinky," Dean conceded as they headed back out the medical center's doors towards the Impala. "Maybe they figured out what's going on and someone or something knows they know."

"Did that librarian seem fishy to you?" Josh asked.

"All librarians seem fishy to me," Dean replied. "But now that you mention it, she seemed nervous, couldn't look us in the eye."

"Shit," Josh cursed, still agitated. "Normally I would just track her cell phone GPS but the software's on my laptop and she has that with her."

"Not a problem," Dean scoffed. "All we need is a female customer service rep to answer at the phone company and I can tell you where Sam and Alex are within a hundred feet." He had played the worried father before to track down Sam's cell phone and it had worked like a charm. He spared a second to regret not listening to his brother last week when the more tech-savvy Winchester had suggested they get those new iPhone-thingys that had an app so they could track their own GPS's.

"Driscoll?" Dean asked they got into the Impala.

Josh managed a quick grin as he shook his head. "Brenton, actually. Driscoll is the current temp, and she's just using Barlow just for this hunt. Gets confusing. You?"

"Winchester," Dean admitted, wondering why the pair would have numerous fake identities if they weren't really hunters.

"Like the gun," Josh commented, nodding his approval. It seemed a fitting name for these two brothers.

Two minutes later, an impressed Josh listened as Dean effortlessly charmed the location of his 'diabetic son' Sammy out of the phone company representative, who happened to be a devoted parent of a pair of fourteen year old girls. Hanging up, Dean turned to Josh.

"Sam's phone is turned off but Alex's is at or near 2600 Edinburgh Street," he supplied.

"That's the library's address," Josh said.

"Ha! I knew it!" Dean said like he had just won a bet. "You should never trust a librarian; they're all up to something! I've been trying to warn Sam his whole life but he just wouldn't listen. There has to be something unnatural about a person who wants to spend their entire day in silence reading frigging books."

Josh looked almost relieved. "Let's go back there and break-in," he suggested matter-of-factly.

Dean chuckled. "Well, okay then Keyser Soze. Sounds like a plan."

Less than fifteen minutes later the two worried older siblings were standing inside the closed library. The place was quiet and empty and a quick sweep of the main room gave no hint that Sam and Alex had even been there. The two men entered the stairwell and split up to search the top two floors also, picking the locks of the few office doors that were locked on the third floor. They found nothing. They met back on the main floor in the archives section.

"I don't get it," Josh shook his head. "Her phone is in this building."

"Let's check out what they were researching," Dean suggested, scanning the archive boxes for signs of ones that had been recently disturbed. Josh dug around in the mythology section.

Damnit!" Josh darted over to the end of the bookcase he was browsing and knelt down to pick something off the floor.

Dean jerked his head up, "What is it?"

Josh stood up, holding a broken gold necklace with a pendant. "It's Lex's necklace. Trust me, she'd never break or lose this by accident. I mean, she never takes it off. My parents gave this to her for her high school graduation, not long before…" He let the sentence trail off. "She _never_ takes it off," he repeated, looking almost panicked.

Dean's heart skipped a beat. "Someone or something has them," he stated fiercely, subconsciously reaching for the .45 tucked in the back of his pants. "And the librarian has something to do with it."

"I sure as Hell hope so," Josh said thoughtfully, the other terrifying scenario coming to mind, "'Cause the other option isn't good - for Lex or Sam."

"What does that mean?" Dean demanded. "What other option?"

Josh decided to come clean, even though it seemed more likely this was related to the current case and not Lexie's shadowy friend. "It's probably not relevant but I should tell you just in case," he said grudgingly, pinching the bridge of his nose. After all, this guy's little brother was missing too.

"I'm listening." Dean didn't like the sound of this.

"For starters, Lex seems to - uhh, how do I put this? - she seems to attract things of a supernatural nature. Mythologies commonly call it being 'sensitive' or sometimes indigo. Whatever it is, she senses ghosts and shit more than most people and, unfortunately, they seem to sense her more than ordinary people." Josh was talking but still searching around the end of the bookshelf where he had found the necklace.

"Okay…" Dean urged, not really seeing where this was going.

"And since she was little, like five or six, there's this thing that sort of latched onto her, a real evil son of a bitch. We haven't figured out exactly what it is yet but it's demon-like and it used to show up when she was alone and hurt her. We tried to exorcise it when she was a teenager, but let's just say it went badly so we split and now whenever it finds us or catches up with us, we run. We get in the car and move to a new town, new ID's, new everything."

Dean was silent for a minute, taking this information in. He would have to process it all later, but for now he wasn't really seeing the relevance. "Do you think this thing has them?"

Josh shook his head and sighed, still holding the broken necklace tightly in his hand. "It's not likely, it just usually gets off on kicking the crap out of my sister, but if someone else gets in the way or tries to help…"

"You're saying this thing would hurt Sam if he tried to protect Alex."

Josh nodded. "More than likely," he sighed. "But, like I said, it doesn't do kidnapping, and it usually gets her when she's alone. This is probably just the librarian and the local superbad, I just figured you should be aware of any other possibilities."

Dean nodded his appreciation. "Okay, good to know. Anything else?"

Josh gave him a lopsided grin. "Lex also has a knack for getting into trouble, supernatural or not. It's like it just sniffs her out. Like if five hundred people shop at a convenience store in a day with no problems, chances are some strung-out dude is going to try rob it the second she walks in the door."

Dean grinned back. "I'll bet Sam has her beat on that one – the kid has a total bad luck mojo." He rubbed his hand over his mouth with worry. He gave Josh props for coming clean about a potential threat being around Alex and felt a little guilty for not disclosing how dangerous he and Sam were to be near, what with angels and demons hanging around. But that was private family business and spilling his guts now would only further worry Josh anyway.

Josh was on the floor reaching under the bookshelf for something. "What d'you got?" Dean asked.

The blond man sat back on his haunches looking crestfallen, holding what he had found. "It's Lexie's cell." He gave Dean a hopeless look. "Shit. This means they could be anywhere."

Dean chose to be optimistic. "No, that librarian was covering for something," he thought out loud. "We find her, we find them." He would find Sam, of that he was certain. There was no way they had endured everything the past three years had thrown at them so he could lose Sammy now, to a simple hunt, at the hands of a friggin' librarian. He headed over to the main desk and rooted through the contents until he found a name.

"Eliza Baker, Librarian for the Township of Borne" he read out loud. He flipped through some more papers until he found some personal mail with an address. "1653 Highway 27." He looked up at Josh. "Let's go."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Sam had given up the fight immediately after the threat to Alex. The bearded man took the gun from the librarian and aimed it at him while the other man picked up the unconscious girl. Sam was quickly relieved of his cell phone and wallet and instructed to follow the librarian towards the back of the library. His knee hurt from the brutal kick it had received during the scuffle but he limped after her obediently.

She exited the back door of the library where Sam was surprised to see a local police van parked outside in the alley. The bearded man opened the back doors, indicating for Sam to get in. He did so reluctantly, taking a seat on the side bench while the clean-shaven man followed him in after dumping Alex on the van floor. The librarian dropped the two knapsacks on the van floor as the man put the attached handcuffs on Sam. The bearded man handed the gun to his friend in the back, hopped out, closed the back doors, and got in the driver's seat.

They drove for about ten minutes, the man in the back holding the Berretta trained on Sam the entire way. There was some play in the chains attaching the handcuffs and Sam figured he could probably take the guy out with his feet, but with Alex on the van floor next to them, it was too risky. He couldn't take the chance a stray bullet would hit her during the scuffle. On top of that, his knee was killing him. So he instead concentrated on the direction, speed, and distance the van was traveling, glancing out the front window for landmarks whenever he could.

They pulled up a long, gravel driveway and drove right into a large barn. The driver got out and shut the barn door before opening the van doors. Sam was ushered to the rear corner of the nearly empty space, where a trapdoor in the floor had been uncovered and a set of stone steps led down into the darkness. The bearded man, who was clearly the one in charge, handed him a pad of ink and a notepad, ordering him to put a thumbprint on the paper.

Crap. A freakishly strong cop taking his fingerprints. This could not possibly end well. Their captor pressed Alex's thumb on the pad and on the paper also, before handing Sam a flashlight and ordering him down the steps. The other man followed carrying Alex and the leader brought up the rear with the gun. Alex was unceremoniously dumped on the floor and the pair left without a word, slamming the solid wooden trapdoor shut and locking it from the outside. Sam heard the bearded man giving orders to stand guard and to shoot them if they tried to escape. The van started up and drove away then everything went quiet.

Alone now, Sam moved over to Alex and checked out her condition. She had a nasty bump at the base of her skull but he hoped she would wake up soon and wouldn't suffer too bad of a concussion. Apart from that, there wasn't much he could do for her so he rifled through her pockets for her cell but found nothing. Damn, they must have taken hers, too.

He turned his attention to the room, which appeared to be an underground cellar of sorts. Sam remembered reading that cellars such as these were used as cold storage rooms for food or for stashing weapons and ammo during the War of Independence in the late 1700's. The walls were all solid stone so he decided their only chance of escape was up. The floor of the barn above had been dirt, so there must be a layer of dirt on top of the timber ceiling he was now shining the flashlight on, making the prospect of scraping a hole in the ceiling unlikely. That only left the trapdoor. It was solid oak, probably four or five inches thick, with large, old steel hinges bolted into the large, timber frame with big metal bolts. He shouldered it a few times but this evoked a warning shout from the man standing guard outside.

"Oy! Enough of that!" the guard yelled. "I won't think twice about shooting you! Trust me, I shot the last two who tried to escape!"

Sam started scraping away quietly at the wood next to the door frame but soon realized it would take a week to get out that way. He was fairly certain he and Alex didn't have a week.

A groan escaped from Alex and he turned, shining the flashlight on her in time to see her open her eyes, looking more than a little disoriented. He came over to help her sit up against the far wall. He shone the flashlight in her eyes, noticing the pupils were slightly uneven, a sign of a possible concussion but other than that, she seemed to pull together okay.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice raspy. "What happened?"

She seemed remarkably calm, all things considered. "We're in a cellar of sorts below a barn," he informed her, pulling out his flask of holy water that their captors had surprisingly not taken and offering her a drink. "Here, this'll help your throat."

She took a few quick sips. "Thanks," she said rubbing her neck, which was starting to show signs of bruising where the man's hand had squeezed it. She closed her eyes for a second. "Shit," she breathed, her lips curling up into a smile as she leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed. "I've been choked out a few times before, that I can handle," she said, "but that son of a bitch must have hit me with something 'cause I have one mother headache!"

Sam laughed. "He didn't so much as hit you with something as he hit something with you," he clarified, raising a curious eyebrow. "And just how many times have you been choked out?" he asked. "Are you guys seriously that bad at hunting?"

She opened her eyes and shrugged at him. "There's this one sucker that keeps getting the better of me. I promise I'll tell you all about my Red-Eyed Freak if you can get us out of here. How does it look?" she asked, gesturing towards the trapdoor.

Sam remembered the picture from the book that had made Alex jump earlier today. It had been a black figure with red eyes. So he had been right, it did have some significance to her.

He summarized their predicament and noticed she looked more disappointed than scared. "So you mean we have to wait for the Big Brother Brigade to rescue our asses?" she griped. "Great, I'll be Daphne again for another month!"

Sam gave her a curious look, smiling as he thought Dean would probably have enjoyed the Big Brother Brigade remark. "Daphne?"

"Yeah, you know the one Fred, or in this case Scooby and Shaggy, always have to rescue," she explained, rolling her eyes. Sam couldn't help but chuckle. This girl was surprisingly cool in a bad situation, able to cover her fear with jokes - not unlike his brother. It sure beat being stuck down here with a panicked civilian. Maybe Alex and Josh weren't as inexperienced as he had initially thought. He was usually the one saying not to judge a book by its cover.

A couple of hours went by before they heard voices again, announcing the return of the bearded man. "I checked out the phone," they heard him say to the man standing guard. "It matches the ID in the wallet, registered to a Sam Collins with an Arkansas address. Only next of kin is a brother, Dean Collins. Apart from that, there's nothing.

"And the girl?" the guard asked.

"Alexis Driscoll, same M.O. Again her only known relative is a brother, Joshua Driscoll. No record, no speeding tickets, nothing except a couple of months of power bills at an address in Dayton, Ohio. And none of the names are registered at any of the local motels or hotels. Willie at the lab is still running their fingerprints. Did you find anything on their laptops?"

"No, they're both passworded. So you think Mary's right and they're hunters?"

Just then a door squeaked open and someone else entered the barn, adding a third voice to the conversation. Both Sam and Alex recognized the crisp voice of the librarian immediately. "Well, they may be hunters but we've got a bigger problem," she announced sternly. "The boy has a brother in town. He showed up outside the library looking for them!"

Sam and Alex exchanged encouraged looks – Dean.

"Damn!" the bearded man cursed. "Well, we'll have to take care of him later. We don't have a choice in this, Mary. We're almost out of time. Arawn will finish the last two within the next three or four days and we still need a lass for you and a bloke for Hamish... since Dougie here shot the two we were supposed to use." The last part was said with some malice, obviously intended as a reprimand for Dougie.

"But we don't know anything about them!" she hissed angrily. "I don't want Hamish to become some wanted fugitive!"

"I ran their ID's and cell phone down at the station. Their ID's are probably fake but the records that go with them are clean and they've both got minimal family. Besides, you said yourself they were digging too deep and had us pretty much figured out. That means they're hunters."

"You said if they were hunters, nobody would come looking for them!" the librarian accused him.

"Hunters are never big family people and they tend to have very few friends. And they've been known to just up and quit hunting, so this lot just disappearing shouldn't raise too many questions. We'll take care of the brother and this could work out for us perfectly. Don't worry so much, Mary."

"I can't help it, Dad!" the librarian answered in an exasperated tone.

Sam gave Alex a confused look._ "Dad?"_ he mouthed silently. The librarian must have been seventy years old to the bearded man's thirty-five or so.

"Hamish died three days ago!" Mary whined. "He's been down there for three days! I just want this to be over – I just want to get him back! I can't stand the thought of him being there for very long. I know what it's like!"

"Mary my dear, we've all been there, more than once," the bearded man replied. "I know what Hamish is going through right now but don't worry, within a few days, you'll both have a fresh start. Come on, didn't you always say you wanted to be a blonde?"

The librarian chuckled at that. "True. I'm almost glad Uncle Dougie had to kill the last two," she said, sounding nearly vicious. "This lass is much bonnier than that one and Hamish will be fair chuffed with the strapping build of the boy."

"Aye, well, in a couple of days, we'll toss 'em into the stone circle for you and this will all be over. Now, go back to the house, I have to get back to the station. I have Willie running their prints. Dougie will stay here and guard these two."

It fell silent in the barn so Sam and Alex guessed the bearded leader and Mary the librarian had left. The prisoners sat quietly for a minute, trying to make sense of the strange conversation they had just overheard.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

"Maybe they just snuck off for some nookie and we're all freaked over nothing?" Dean suggested, trying to lessen his own worry with humour. It only occurred to him after he had said it that it may not be what Josh wanted to hear being that Alex was the guy's sister and big brothers generally didn't like to hear about their sister's sexual exploits.

Josh just laughed good naturedly, appreciating Dean's attempt to lighten the mood. "Now I'm really worried!"

Dean snickered. "Trust me, if they are off somewhere hittin' skin, your sister couldn't have picked more of a gentleman. It'll be next week before they get to first base."

"Lex can be a bit impulsive when it comes to men but Sam isn't her type these days. So no, unfortunately, that's not what's happening."

"Huh. It's not something Sam would do anyway, despite my best efforts to teach him the ways." Dean sighed, as he slowed and pulled over, switching off the Impala's lights as they turned into the trees near the mailbox marked '1653'.

There was a stone archway over the driveway with a name engraved on a big stone at the top. "McCulloch," Dean read out loud. "Now why does that not surprise me?" He opened the trunk to get armed up, glancing disapprovingly at Josh as the blond man approached. He was still limping slightly with his injured ankle. _Hope that doesn't slow us down_.

Josh let out a low whistle as he took in the supernatural weapons arsenal that was Dean's trunk. Dean couldn't help but give him a cocky grin as he handed him Sam's 9mm and a shotgun. Josh shook his head at Sam's PT 99, lifting his shirt to reveal his own handgun already in place, but he accepted the younger Winchester's Ithica pump shotgun. Dean nodded his approval and the two men headed down the long driveway, keeping in the trees that lined both sides. Josh moved in behind Dean, automatically letting the more experienced hunter take the lead.

"So why would Sam not be Alex's type?" Dean whispered to the man behind him, not turning around as they crept towards the house.

Josh laughed out a sigh. "Lex is, uhhh, how should I put it... a free spirit. We move around a lot so she tends to go for guys who aren't exactly looking for a long term commitment. She doesn't like to get too close anymore, you know? Your brother doesn't strike me as the casual relationship type."

Dean snorted. "You got that right."

Josh hadn't missed the appreciative looks his sister had been getting from the older Winchester and knew all too well she had been giving back a few of her own. He shook his head, thinking those two together was a disaster waiting to happen, though he wasn't sure which one of the two would fare the worst should that time bomb ever go off. He figured he would never have to find out as it surely wouldn't amount to anything in the day or two it would take them to wrap up this case.

Unfortunately, Lex seemed to be unusually at ease with hunters, much less guarded than she was with everyone else. Maybe it was because they had never assumed she was crazy or some kind of freak if they found out about her secret. Maybe it was because of Colby, a hunter she had a history with. Whatever it was, the big brother in him couldn't help but feel that made her a bit more vulnerable to someone like Dean. It occurred to him that he should probably take back his last comments because telling a guy like Dean his sister went for casual relationships might just be like dangling candy in front of a toddler.

"Not that I'm saying my sister is easy," he clarified hastily. "Quite the opposite, so don't get any ideas. She just chooses…"

He silenced himself midsentence as Dean threw up his hand and crouched lower, ducking in behind a tree and flicking his gun's safety off. Josh followed suit, peering ahead just enough to see a man standing just outside the door of a barn with a 9mm Beretta in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the butt glowing in the fading light as he inhaled.

"This might just be easier than we thought," Dean whispered. "What could possibly be in a barn that needs guarded with a gun?"

"Well, unless this town gets real competitive about the champion pig competition, I'm guessing prisoners," Josh replied. "_Live_ prisoners."

Dean grinned at him. "Let's skip the house. We'll come at him from behind the barn. You go left, I'll go right," he directed, "And we'll…"

The man butted out his cigarette and went back inside the barn.

"Okay," Dean improvised, "see that door on the side near the back?"

Josh nodded.

"You go in that door when you hear me inside, 'kay?"

"What are you going to do?" Josh asked.

"I'm going in the front door," Dean replied evasively with his trademark cocky grin as he put down the larger shotgun, tucked his engraved .45 in at the small of his back, and stepped out of the trees, strolling openly towards the barn door.

Josh growled in exasperation but did as Dean ordered, quickly making his way through the trees towards the small door near the back of the barn. As he reached it, he could hear Dean's voice at the front.

"Hello?" Dean called. "Anybody home?" He opened the barn door and was met by the smoking man with a suspicious look on his face, though the man was now hiding his gun behind his back.

"Hi," Dean said in a friendly voice. "I'm heading for New Haven and I seem to have run out of gas." He jerked his thumb back towards the road. "Do you have any to spare, just enough to get me to the next gas station?" He looked into the barn behind the man but didn't see anyone else.

"No man, get out of here!" the man said in an unfriendly tone. "This is private property."

Josh used the distraction to shoulder the rear door open, entering the barn, gun ready. The man turned in his direction, startled by the noise, at which point Dean hit him in the face with the butt of his gun, laying him out flat. The man's Beretta skidded across the barn floor and Dean quickly dragged the stunned the man inside. He closed the barn door, not wanting to attract any attention from the house which stood another hundred feet up the driveway.

"Dean?" came a muffled cry from the back of the barn somewhere.

"Sammy?" Dean called back, relief flooding through him.

"We're down here!" came two voices in unison. _Thank God! Sam was safe_!

Josh was already in the back corner, clearing a large empty crate off what appeared to be a trapdoor in the floor. Dean was about to head over also when the guard jumped up and lunged at him, knocking the hunter's gun out of his hands. He turned quickly and threw a solid punch, but the guy recovered quickly. Too quickly.

Josh used the butt of Sam's shotgun to smash the lock on the trapdoor then moved quickly towards where Dean was struggling with the guard. He cocked the gun noisily and shouted, warning the guy to back off or he would shoot. The guy ignored him. Not able to get a clear shot without running the risk of hitting Dean, and having never shot anyone and not wanting to start now, Josh pressed the safety on the tang of the shotgun before flipping it around and ramming the butt into the side of the head of Dean's attacker. Josh could hear Sam and Alex coming out of the door behind him as he watched the man he had just hit _really_ hard shake his head a few times before straightening up, launching himself at Josh with a loud snarl.

With his bad ankle, Josh was thrown off his feet easily. He rolled as he hit the ground, getting out of the way of the furious guard, who was already back on his feet. With impressive speed, Dean had also made it back onto his feet and was throwing punches at the guy like a madman. Barely flinching, the man swung back, landing one in Dean's gut. Doubled over, Dean still managed to duck and avoid the next blow, by which time Josh was on his feet and grabbed the guy's throat from behind. Incredibly strong, the man simply threw Josh off and lunged for Dean again.

He never made it. Three shots rang out and the guy fell to the floor in front of Dean, blood spattering on the hunter's shirt. Dean took a step back, looking up to see Sam holding Dean's own discarded Colt .45, still pointed at the dead guard. Alex was standing behind him, hands covering her mouth in shock.

Dean's first split-second thought was one of alarm and fear at the sight of his little brother holding the gun and the cold look on Sam's face and his heart lurched with a painful shock. The sight took him back to that moment when Sam had shot Jake at the Devil's gate and Azazel's haunting words '_How certain are you that what you brought back is one hundred percent pure Sam_?' Just for a split second. Then the protective, loving big brother in him took over and he rationalized that this guy had been too strong to be human and Sam had only killed him to save Dean's life. He stared at Sam for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, pleading silently for the cold look to go away and Sam to look at him.

Sam did. "Dean, you okay?" the younger Winchester asked, face now full of concern and worry.

"Yeah, you?" Dean replied, reaching for his gun, badly wanting Sam to put it down quickly, fearing what their new friends would think.

Sam handed it over. "He's not human," he announced defensively, as if sensing his drastic actions required an explanation. "Well, I think he was at one point, but not anymore."

Josh was at Alex's side, arm around her protectively as he stared silently at the body on the floor. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a little gruff.

"Yes," Alex defended, her voice shaky as she turned from the body to face her brother. "It's complicated but we're pretty sure he's one of the ones summoning our evil Hellboy."

Suddenly the barn door opened and the librarian stared wide-eyed at the scene from the doorway. When her eyes fell upon the dead man, she screamed and covered her mouth with her hands. "Dougie!" she cried. Dean had raised his gun at her the moment she had appeared and she glared at him as she took in the scene. "What have you done?" she hissed. Then she turned and headed quickly towards the house. Dean let the gun drop and turned to the others.

"That's our cue to leave," he ordered, picking up the man's dropped gun. Josh scooped Sam's borrowed shotgun off the barn floor and they headed for the door. Alex spotted her and Sam's knapsacks on a table near the front entrance of the barn and grabbed them, stuffing their laptops back inside and handing Sam his. They headed down the driveway quickly, keeping a watchful eye towards the house.

Dean noticed Sam limping. "Sammy, you okay?" he asked quietly, sidling up to his brother a few steps behind the others.

Sam knew Dean well enough to recognize the double meaning in his brother's question. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Dean, I'm fine." He repeated the sentence more firmly this time but, not seeing the worry leave Dean's eyes, he added, "Really, I'm okay. Trust me, that guy was one of the bad guys. We would have had to kill him sooner or later. I'll explain when we get to the car."

Finally reassured, Dean scoffed. "I was referring to your hobbling slowing us down," he lied with a teasing smile. "Now quit being a bitch and move your ass. No doubt we'll have company soon."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

They piled in the Impala, Dean at the wheel with Sam in his usual seat next to him. "1653?" Sam read the side of the mailbox as they pulled away quickly. "Are we on Highway 27?"

Dean nodded.

"That's the address for the second house on the McCulloch property," Sam informed the others.

"So you were right," Alex told him.

"Right about what?" Dean demanded. "You guys know what's goin' on here?"

"Sam figured it all out, actually," Alex said truthfully. She had still been trying to put all the information together in some way that made sense when Sam had voiced his theory. She had to give it to him - he was sharp.

"Well then, Baby Winchester here gets promoted to Velma," Josh elbowed his sister playfully. "But you, Sis, are still Daphne."

Sam flushed a little but filled the older brothers in on everything that had happened, including the intel they had scored at the library and the conversation he and Alex had overheard while locked in the cellar.

"So what's your theory?" Josh asked him once he had reached the part where he and Dean had arrived.

"The two guys who attacked us are Ben Darius, aka Angus Alistair McCulloch, and his brother Dougal McCulloch," Sam explained. "The librarian is his daughter Mary, whose husband Hamish died three days ago."

"Old Man McCulloch? Alive?" Josh asked. "He would be like two hundred and fifty years old!"

"I think these four are guardians of a portal that Arawn, a Celtic God of Revenge, uses to get to this world. Every time one of them dies or they get really old, they call him over here. The lore says he used to come here to escort souls back to Hell. Well I think he has some deal going with these four that he brings their souls back after they die and puts them in new bodies for them," Sam continued. "I think they stagger it two of them at a time every twenty or thirty years and every time Old Man McCulloch dies, he wills the deed of his property to the owner of his new body."

"Were they planning on using you two for one of their body jumps?" Josh asked, his face pale.

"Yeah, I think so," Sam replied. "For the old librarian and her husband, Hamish."

"So what happens to the souls of the bodies that get taken over?" Dean asked, barely containing his fury at the thought of these evil freaks trying to send his little brother to Hell. If he and Josh hadn't found them, Sam and Alex could have soon been enduring the relentless physical pain and emotional torture that he had. He tried not to think of all he had seen and gone through during decades his soul had spent there, but the memories that had been forcing their way into his thoughts and nightmares were almost enough to break him even now. The thought of his Sammy suffering that kind of torment - well, it wasn't even conceivable as far as Dean was concerned.

"My guess would be Arawn takes them to Hell in place of the dead McCulloch," Sam supposed, noticing his brother's back stiffen and mouth tighten at the thought. He wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the mention of an innocent soul going to Hell or Sam's soul in particular going to Hell.

"And what, in exchange for this favour he gets to off a few people by acting out people's revenge on them?" Josh asked.

"Yeah. Five people each time," Sam nodded. "When you think about it, it kind of makes sense. Arawn used to come to this world to hunt, he is a God of Revenge, so hunting and killing people for revenge would fit his M.O."

"Hey Dean, can you pull over?" Alex asked suddenly. Dean looked in his rear view mirror and noticed she didn't look good. He swerved off the road quickly while Josh started grilling his sister.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Sis, you don't look good. Are you alright? Lexie?"

Alex opened the door and hopped out, making it a few steps away from the Impala before sinking to her knees and getting sick quietly at the side of the road. Josh hopped out and was around at her side in seconds. She eventually straightened up, hand wiping her face.

Dean looked at Sam, concerned. "Too much for her?" he asked quietly, one eyebrow raised in a silent _I told you so_.

Sam shook his head, looking guilty. "Nah, she's got a concussion. I forgot to mention it."

"Oh." Dean nodded in understanding. He and Sam had suffered concussions on many occasions. Nausea, dizziness, and throwing up were common after-occurrences. At least she had the decency to get him to pull over and hadn't puked in his car. Hopefully the symptoms wouldn't last long or they would have to get her to a hospital. That was not a desirable option given the current situation.

"Damnit Lex, you still should have said something," Josh was scolding his sister quietly as they got back in the car. Dean pulled back out onto the road quickly since they still didn't know if anyone was going to be coming after them and needed to get off this highway.

"So," he said, deciding to change the subject, "The legend must be wrong about Old Man McCulloch being murdered by his cheating wife and brother. Dougie is the brother and he's still buddy-buddy with Darius."

Sam agreed. "Maybe the wife still cheated but Darius murdered the wife instead of the other way around," he suggested. "But then again, if that was the case I doubt he'd still be living with his brother."

Dean grinned, giving Sam a playful slap on the arm. "Bros before ho's, right?"

Josh laughed in apparent agreement but Sam groaned his disapproval, shaking his head. "Dude."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_This is the first time I have made a cover-art picture so you will have to forgive its crappy quality - but it was fun getting to put faces to Arawn, Josh and Alex. Hopefully they are enjoyable as their story comes out in bits and pieces and you get to know them. Please R&R :)_


	7. Like Patrick Swayze in 'To Wong Foo'

_A/N: For those of you who don't know the movie, Patrick Swayze, Wesley Snipes, and John Leguizamo spent most of 'To Wong Foo' dressed in drag. And see if you can catch the Ten Inch Hero reference in this chapter. This chapter is the mostly a bit of fun before the real action starts. Tomorrow's chapter is a long one and it was after writing it (and the few after) that I realized I had a twisted love for hurt!Dean, lol. _

**Chapter 7**** – Like Patrick Swayze in **_**To Wong Foo**_

Back at Cabin four of the Celtic Lodge, the group discussed the best way to "gank this sucker" as Dean had so eloquently put it. Dean and Sam were fairly positive evergreen stakes would work, as they had successfully killed two Pagan Gods last Christmas using them. However, as Alex pointed out, getting close enough to this monster with evergreen stakes would be insanely dangerous, even using the Winchesters' crossbow.

"How about destroying the portal?" Dean suggested, cringing at how much that sounded like a Star Trek quote.

The others nodded in agreement. "I think it's a stone circle," Sam offered. "Probably somewhere on the McCulloch property."

"Like Stonehenge?" Dean looked doubtful. "I didn't think there were any real stone circles in America."

"It wouldn't necessarily have to be that old," Alex offered. "Or that big. Just have the right supernatural mojo on it."

"And who knows how old these four actually are," Josh added. "They could have been doing this for a century or two before they came to this country. They could even have brought the stones with them from Scotland."

"You said the McCulloch property is huge and mostly wilderness," Dean turned to Sam. "What do you figure is the best way to find the circle? Google Earth?"

Sam shrugged, surprised his brother had remembered the time Sam had shown him Bobby's place on the website. "It's worth a try." He grinned like a kid at Christmas when Josh got up and handed him the Brentons' laptop to look it up on.

Catching the look, Dean made a mental note to pick Sam up a new one. He would get some advice from Josh before they split at the end of this hunt. Maybe he'd even pay for it - with a fake credit card, of course.

While Sam was logging on to the website, he looked over at Dean. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot," he said with a look of concern on his face. "The cop took our fingerprints and he's running them at the station right now."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh great, just what we need."

Alex looked down at her black thumb. Dean noted the quick look of fear she threw at Josh and the reassuring look he returned, accompanied by a slight shake of the head as if to say _Don't worry about it_. "Different database," Josh said quietly. Neither Brenton offered an explanation of the exchange.

The McCulloch property was not well focused on the website and nothing was visible. Alex got up and headed for the door. "I'll go ask Brody," she offered. "He knows everything about this town."

"Not by yourself!" Josh scolded, getting up stiffly, his ankle still bothering him. "Remember those guys will be after you now. Neither of you should go anywhere by yourselves," he extended his suggestion to Sam. "Besides, sis, you have a concussion, remember?"

"Josh, I'm feeling fine, I swear," Alex groaned. "The fresh air will do me good. Besides, it's just over to the motel office."

Dean stood up, gesturing to Josh not to worry. "I'll go with her," he offered, tucking his gun back in the top of his pants and heading to the door behind Alex before Josh could argue further.

There was a cool breeze outside despite this being an unusually warm October. Dean and Alex headed around the row of motel rooms and towards the office at the far end. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Dean spoke up.

"So what was that all about?" he indicated her blackened finger. "You got a record?"

She smiled at him. "Of sorts," she replied evasively. "I can only imagine how many charges are on you Winchesters' rap sheets, though."

Dean grinned. "Ours are clean."

Alex snorted. "I seriously doubt that."

"Well," Dean explained, "There aren't current charges because officially, Sam and me are dead."

She shot a surprised look at him. "Dead? How did you manage that one?" she asked, sounding impressed.

Dean shrugged. "Friend in the Bureau," he answered vaguely, not really wanting to get into a conversation about Hendricksen as it still brought up feelings of guilt about how that night had ended. "Now, your turn. What did you do? B&E? Grand theft Auto?"

She looked as if she was debating coming clean but decided against it at the last second.

"Your brother told me about the demon-stalker thing of yours," he confessed, figuring she was worried about spilling the big family secret.

"He did?" she asked, sounding surprised but suddenly making a deliberate effort not to catch his eye. Her shoulders stiffened as she walked, eyes on the ground in front of her. They continued in silence for a moment before she shot him a quick sideways glance, her face full of apprehension. Dean recognized the look as one he had seen Sam throw at him a hundred times in the past three years. It was searching to see if he thought she was some kind of weirdo freak. It was telling him she would understand if he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. It was begging him to believe her and not call her crazy. He had seen that look in his brother's eyes too many times to not know what self-loathing and self-doubt lay beneath it.

Every time Sam had mentioned a vision, the possibility of turning 'darkside', or Yellow-Eyes' plans for him, he had thrown Dean that exact look. Dean had tried to alleviate his little brother's doubts while avoiding or at least keeping the excruciating 'chick-flick' moments' to a minimal, but still wasn't satisfied he had managed to convince his troubled brother. His mind raced to figure out a way to put this girl at ease without getting himself trapped in an awkward 'emo' moment.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual, "I don't care if you've got the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse riding at your heels, it's not like any of this is your fault," he said sincerely. "My family's had our fair share of obsessive demons, trust me. One demon bitch even hitched a ride in Sammy for a week and tried to get me to kill him. And we hunted this other stubborn bastard of a demon for over twenty years."

She looked relieved. "Thanks," she said gratefully as a smile spread across her face. "See, that's why I like hunters. You guys are all so screwed up, you make Josh and I look like the fucking Waltons."

"Don't mention it," he replied sarcastically, appreciating the girl's quick angst-disposal and levity-retrieval. "So what was it, Drunk and Disorderly?" he continued his previous line of questioning.

Alex laughed. "Well, if you must know, none of the above," she explained. "When I was young, my parents didn't believe me about Red-Eyes and thought that I was hurting myself so they kept sending me to shrinks, including my mother's brother, Uncle Bryce. When my parents were killed, I was still considered a minor and Josh was in a coma for eleven days so my uncle stepped in and sent me to a psychiatric hospital." She rolled her eyes, embarrassed, ashamed even. "Anyway, after Josh woke up they wouldn't release me so he broke me out and that's when we disappeared, got fake ID's and took off. But my uncle issued a psych warrant basically saying I am a danger to myself and others around me and I need to be confined to a secured psychiatric facility, involuntarily if necessary."

Dean nodded, Josh's comment about the different database now making sense. So the Brentons were running from both an obsessed demon-thing as well as the law. He and Sam had more in common with these two than he had originally thought. Of course, they Winchesters never had to run from their own family, not that they had any. He decided killing Alex's demon-stalker would be at the top of his to-do list, right after killing Lillith, winning the current war, and keeping Sam safe. If anyone had ever needed Winchester help, it was this family.

They arrived at the office to find Brody half asleep behind the desk, staring blankly at the small TV screen, Seinfeld's nasally voice floating from the small, scratchy speaker. His eyes lit up when he saw Alex and he jumped up to greet her. "Alex! How are you?" His expression dimmed somewhat when Dean walked in behind her.

"I'm good, Brody," she smiled sweetly at him. "I was wondering if you could help me out with something."

"Sure, anything," he offered, trying to sound suave but saying it much too eagerly to be successful.

"Well, you seem to know so much about the area, I was wondering if you could tell me if there are any stone circles around? Like maybe on the McCulloch property?"

Brody's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Stone Circles? You mean the rock band? Or like Stonehenge?"

Alex laughed playfully. "Like Stonehenge. Anything like that?"

"Oh," Brody flushed. "You know, I have heard something about there being one on the old McCulloch property, but I don't know if it's true, or where it is." He looked disappointed for a second, before his face lit back up. "Oh, but I do know where you could find out!"

"Where's that?" Alex asked.

"My Uncle Jonas. Well, he's my mother's second cousin's husband but he's my Dad's first cousin so I always called him Uncle. Anyways, he does like, maps and stuff and he has really cool aerial shots of this whole town and he knows like every inch of it. I know he'd know about your stone thing!"

"That sounds great. How can we get a hold of him?" asked Alex, trying really hard to dispel the stereotypical judgments about the small-town kid and the double-dipped family tree.

Brody told her eagerly. "He'll be running his booth all day tomorrow at the fairgrounds. He puts all his maps in one of the tents and actually thinks people are interested." The teenager rolled his eyes. "Tomorrow's the last day of the festival. You'll find him there for sure. Just tell him I sent you." He leaned over the counter, pointing to the rack of pamphlets. "There's a map of the fairgrounds in the rack; his tent is marked on it."

"Why thanks Brody, you've been a big help." Alex moved over to the rack to search for the map.

Brody moved over closer to Dean, who had been watching the exchange with amusement from the far end of the counter. "Dude, you totally stole her from surfer boy didn't you?" he said with open admiration and more than a hint of jealousy. "It was the car, right?" He shook his head, knowingly. "It had to be the car."

Dean grinned slyly and leaned in close. "No, kid, you got it all wrong. She's not with me," he said quietly. "And she's not with 'surfer boy' either. I went for it man but she turned me down flat. Said she liked younger men and that she had her eye on someone."

Brody's eyes widened.

"I totally think you have a chance, dude," Dean continued, marveling at how easy this was, and feeling just a tiny bit guilty. The kid was just about one card short of the full deck. "And I know for a fact she totally digs flowers, daisies especially. Just so you know," he winked at the teen and turned towards Alex with an innocent raise of his eyebrows as she called out that she had found the festival grounds map.

**_SPN-SPN-SPN_**

The following day was again unusually warm for mid-October, the sun promising to shine brightly for the afternoon without a cloud in the morning sky. The youngest Winchester woke up early and glanced over at his brother, pleased to find him still sleeping soundly. Dean hadn't been getting much sleep recently and Sam had been concerned that the worry Dean had endured yesterday would have brought on another nightmare. Sam knew without a doubt the night terrors were a result of Dean's time in Hell but his brother, being Dean, refused to talk about them.

He showered quickly and quietly and slipped out to the diner for coffee just after 6:30 am. By the time he was halfway there he was second-guessing his decision to walk as his knee was still swollen and painful to walk on, but starting the Impala up would definitely have woken his brother. Heck, _walking past_ the Impala would probably wake up his brother with some sort of sixth sense reserved only for Sam and the Chevy.

When he limped back into the room, Dean was awake and up, shirtless and pacing impatiently with a cross look on his face.

"Where were you?" he demanded before Sam could even cross the threshold.

Sam held up the coffees with a '_duuuh' _look on his face. That did nothing to improve his brother's mood.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Dean demanded.

Another _'duuuh'_ look to remind Dean the Sherriff had taken his phone but that only succeeded in even further frustrating him. Sam handed Dean his black coffee and huffed his classic Sammy huff.

"Look, Dean, I'm sorry, I forgot to take the spare. You know that Darius still has mine. I was just at the diner for like, five minutes," he defended.

"In case you forgot your little internet search last night, Ben Darius happens to be the town Sheriff!" Dean reminded him crossly. "And don't forget he wants your body!"

Sam snorted, choking and spewing a mouthful of his vanilla-flavoured coffee back into his cup. He looked up to see Dean grinning sheepishly.

"Okay," the older Winchester admitted with a smirk, "That didn't come out exactly the way I had intended." He took a sip of his morning Java and started raking through his duffel for some clean clothes. "We agreed you don't go anywhere alone, Sam. You and Alex both. Not 'til this job is finished."

Sam rolled his eyes but nodded his reluctant agreement. "So when are we going to the fair?" he asked.

"Booth opens at nine," Dean replied as he headed towards the shower. "We're supposed to meet Paris and Nicole at their room."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean pounded loudly on the motel door of their new acquaintances, getting a disapproving shake of the head from his brother for the lack of subtlety. Alex opened it and smiled in greeting at them.

"The Brothers Grimm. Morning. So, you two ready to try your hands at the caber toss?"

"The what?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"The caber toss," Sam explained. "It's a traditional Scottish heavyweight competition of the Highlands. The contestant throws a log end over end and whoever throws it the farthest wins."

Dean looked skeptical. "Seriously? They couldn't find anything better to do, like sheep tossing?"

Alex laughed and stepped outside as Josh followed and closed the door behind him. "They also throw a bundle of hay, a big rock, and an iron ball on a stick. You do realize this is a Scottish festival we're going to, don't you?"

Dean waved his hand. "Hey, I saw Braveheart."

"Twenty times," Sam muttered.

Dean ignored him and fifteen minutes later found them strolling through the already busy fair grounds in search of the tent belonging to Brody's Uncle Jonas. Dean, walking up front with Josh, was expressing his annoyance at the constant hum of bagpipes playing tunes from every corner of the field. "Their parents must have hated these kids growing up," he joked.

"Bagpipes are one of the coolest instruments going," Alex called out in their defense. "They're very passionate."

"They're played by kids who won't ever get laid," Dean retorted, turning around to grin at Sam and Lex walking behind their big brothers. "It's not like they're considered real music."

"Oh yeah?" Alex challenged. "Nazareth, _Hair of the Dog_ – bagpipes. Steve Earl, _Copperhead Road_ – bagpipes. The Scorpions, _Wild Child_ – bagpipes. AC/DC, _It's a Long way to the Top_ - bagpipes."

Sam chuckled. "She's got you there, Dean."

Dean shrugged, shooting Sam a traitorous glare but admitting defeat at the mention of one of his all-time idols, AC/DC. He turned back around and gave Josh a shoulder bump. "Thanks for the warning, dude."

"Hey," Josh chuckled quietly, "I'm already on her bad side this morning for not letting her go on her run. I gotta live with her ya know."

The older pair kept up a stream of friendly banter as they crossed the crowded field. At one point, a stunning redhead in daisy dukes walked between the two, giving them a polite 'excuse me' as they stopped to allow her to pass. Both of them turned around as she walked on, checking her out appreciatively as she continued on towards their younger siblings following a few feet behind.

Both Sam and Alex caught the not-even-a-little subtle ogling being done by Dean and Josh and laughed. After basically ignoring the two older brothers, the girl looked up at Sam as she passed, giving him a lingering smile and a sweet "Hi." Sam gave a quick shy nod of his head but didn't reply as she passed directly between him and Alex, her hand grazing lightly across his chest.

Dean and Josh both shook their heads in disgust. "Bro, that was so wasted on you!" Josh whimpered to Sam.

"He's limping, he's got a bruised up face, and he's walking with a girl," Dean said in disbelief. "Small town chicks, man. I just don't get it."

They reached the edge of the field where Jonas' tent stood, proving the motel's festival map to be surprisingly accurate. Inside were a few tables cramped tightly into the small space that were covered with hundreds of aerial photographs and maps. There was a lean man in his mid-thirties with a slightly receding hairline and a toothy smile pulling some more maps out of a large canvas bag near the back of the tent.

"Excuse me?" Dean called over. "Are you Jonas?"

The man looked up from his work. "Yes," he replied. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Dean," Dean offered. "Your nephew Brody told us to come and see you."

The man smiled knowingly and nodded his head. "Ah, yes," he said. "He called me this morning and told me some friends of his would be stopping by." He turned to Alex. "You must be Alex. Brody speaks quite highly of you," he said with a wink. Alex blushed and caught the stifled snickers of the three guys she was with.

Jonas laughed. "My boy Brody may not be the sharpest tool in the shed," he admitted with a fond smile, "but his heart is in the right place."

"We're looking for a stone circle that's rumored to be somewhere on the Old McCulloch property," Dean pressed.

"Oh, yes," Jonas said excitedly. "Not many people even know about that, the Sheriff being such a private person and all. Sheriff Darius owns what is still referred to as the McCulloch property. It actually hasn't been owned by a real McCulloch in well over a hundred years." He was rummaging through a pile of photographs on the corner table. "Anyway, I've never seen the stones up close, but I did spot them on one of my passes."

"Passes?" Josh inquired.

"Yes, passes over the property with my plane. I do all my own aerial photography." He waved his hand over the hundreds of photographs on the tables. "I've photographed every inch of this township," he added proudly.

"Aha!" he exclaimed, pulling an aerial map from the middle of the stack free and placing it on the center table so they could all see it. It showed mostly trees with a large river running through the center and a road at the top right corner. The latitude and longitude were marked down the sides of the map. He pointed to a small light green spot in the center. "See, there they are. Five of them, all in a perfect circle."

The four hunters bent their heads in closer to see but could not make out any details.

"Do you have anything zoomed in closer, Jonas?" Josh asked, hopefully. "We're pretty interested in the stones themselves."

"Oh, right," Jonas nodded. "Well, you'd love these ones. There are markings all over all five of them, Gaelic symbols, I believe." He looked apologetically at them. "I had a beautiful shot blown up large scale, but I gave it to a friend of mine. He's quite obsessed with Gaelic History and Gaelic folklore. He asked the Sheriff if he could go have a look at the stones but the Sheriff refused to let him on the property. Darius was actually quite rude about it; he's known to be quite a quick-tempered jack-ass."

Dean snorted. "I'll say," he mumbled.

"What did your friend find out about the stones?" Sam pressed.

Jonas rolled his eyes. "Frank's a bit obsessive. He spent weeks deciphering the symbols. He thinks the stones were believed to be some kind of portal for who knows what to who knows where. He thinks that hundreds of years ago, ancient Scots used to recite verses or spells that they believed would open portals to different times or different worlds. You know, Druids and all that mumbo jumbo." He laughed as if to himself. "Frank even researched the spells. He speaks fluent Gaelic. Like I said, he's a little obsessive."

"Jonas, I would love to meet your friend Frank," Sam said, truthfully. "Could you tell me how to get in touch with him?"

"Sure," Jonas replied. "Frank Pelter. He is a professor at Grace College. He teaches Religious Studies. You'll find him on the Campus seven days a week; he pretty much lives there."

Dean bought the aerial photograph showing the location of the stones, thanked the man for his time and his help, and the four left the tent to head back towards their cars. On the way they passed a shooting carnival game, sporting some decent looking pellet rifles at the counter and rows of stacked cans and paper targets at the rear.

"Hey!" the seedy looking carnie called over to Dean and Josh as they passed. "Wanna test your skills?"

Dean scoffed and waved a dismissive hand at him. "Naw, man, we're good."

"I understand man," the carnie jeered back. "You fellows don't wanna embarrass yourselves in front of the lady. No problem. Have a great day!"

Neither Josh nor Dean could let that one slide. They both stopped and turned towards the carnie. Sam just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Actually, I just don't want to deplete your stash of wonderful prizes here," Dean answered back, waving his hand at the gaudy array of stuffed animals and tacky jewelry hanging from the roof of the tent.

Josh elbowed Dean. "I bet I can kick your ass," he goaded. The challenge made, within seconds both older brothers were moving up the row of pellet guns chained to the front counter picking up each one to find a suitable one. Sam groaned but didn't join in, inwardly glad to see Dean having some fun but knowing full well he could never beat the elder Winchester at this game. Alex grinned with amusement at the serious looks on the older brothers' faces as they made their selections and handed their money over to the grinning booth-owner.

Within two minutes, the carnie realized he had made a mistake in goading these two into playing. After the first few shots, they had both figured out the deliberate misalignment of the pellet guns and were skillfully compensating for it. The first round went to Dean and the carnie handed him a stuffed pink rabbit prize. Looking at it with more annoyance than gratitude, Dean turned and tossed it to Alex. "Here," he called out before quickly turning and picking up his gun again. "Another round?" he challenged Josh.

"Damn right!" Josh agreed fervently, disappointed at losing. He considered himself a pretty good shot and generally won any games of this sort. He concentrated hard and managed to come out ahead of Dean by a small margin after the next round, arguably because Dean's gun had jammed and the Winchester had missed the first two shots with the new rifle he had selected. "Aha!" Josh cried triumphantly as the carnie scowled and handed him a stuffed Tigger. He turned and tossed the toy to Alex. "Here Sis!"

Alex rolled her eyes. "What am I supposed to do with these?" she complained to Sam, who just laughed.

The older brothers started a tie-breaker round, during which the teasing and name-calling between them ranged from "Ha ha, dude you suck!" to "Sammy had better aim than you when he was being potty trained!"

By this time, a small group of onlookers had started to gather around the booth as the two men nailed almost every target dead on. Dean naturally won the third round, receiving a very large brown teddy bear for his efforts. He turned to toss it to Alex again, but she held up her free hand and took a step back, shaking her head, refusing to have another toy offloaded on her.

Dean turned to Sam, who was standing behind him watching the competition with a grin. "Here," Dean said as he unceremoniously shoved the giant bear into Sam's arms so he could get back to his game. A few snickers escaped from the five or six onlookers behind him and Sam's cheeks grew red as he stood there holding the stupid bear with the big pink bow around its neck. Alex burst out laughing, tears nearly rolling down her cheeks as she noticed Sam's pout.

Josh and Dean were oblivious to the attention they were attracting as they went one last round. "Come on Josh!" Alex cheered as Josh hit three targets in a row with perfect bulls-eyes. "This one will tie it up!"

Dean scoffed as he raised his rifle and took his turn, nailing every target dead on. "Give it up now and end your humiliation," he teased, nodding to Josh for his turn.

Alex turned to a couple of kids beside her, "Do you guys want these stuffed toys?" she asked, handing the rabbit and the Tigger to them, their eyes wide with awed surprise. Sam decided to follow suit and turned to a boy standing beside him also.

"You want this bear, little guy?" he asked the kid.

The kid, about eight or nine years old, looked at Sam with a disgusted sneer. "No way! Do I look like a pussy to you?" he said as he moved quickly away from Sam. Alex hid her face to try to conceal that her eyes were again watering with laughter at Sam's humiliation, but her shaking shoulders gave it away. She turned towards the beet red younger Winchester and decided to help him out, reaching for the bear and handing it to a passing couple with a toddler walking between them. She received a thank-you for her efforts from both Sam and the young couple.

Though Josh did well, it wasn't good enough in the end, and Dean took the fourth round also. The carnie was about to hand him the largest prize there, a six foot high pink flamingo, but, with a glance back at the glaring Sam and Alex, he waved his hand at the booth-owner. "Can I have something smaller?" he asked. "Gimme some of that jewelry over there." The carnie went over to the wall and pulled off a leather beaded bracelet, handing it to Dean.

"You guys cops?" he asked, looking from Dean to Josh.

Dean's snort conveyed his answer in the negative. He took the bracelet and held it up at Josh. "Victory!" he gloated, before turning and tossing the prize to Alex with a cocky grin.

Sam couldn't help but smile at his brother's glee. He had pegged Josh for a bit of a boy scout, not the type Dean usually hit it off with, but they seemed to be quite buddy-buddy after hanging out for the day yesterday. From what Sam had gathered last night, Dean and Josh had spent the day shooting pool, hitting on the bar waitresses, and drinking beer while working on the Bronco. Sam noticed Alex about to protest at getting landed with the latest prize but she stopped and looked the bracelet over for a few seconds before slipping it on her wrist, shooting a guilty glance at her defeated brother.

Back at the entrance to the fair grounds, Dean, Sam, and Alex waited while the competition's loser - at Dean's insistence - stood in line at a nearby canteen for coffees. Dean shook his head in disgust as a couple of guys in kilts walked by.

"Dudes wearing skirts, man," he criticized. "Sammy, are you sure you aren't Scottish? You'd fit right in."

Sam huffed but didn't bother with a retort. He had been expecting the remark from the moment they had all stepped out of the cars and the first marching band in kilts had walked past them.

"Are you kidding?" Alex offered, giving an openly appreciative look at the two men who had passed. "Guys in kilts are hot.! You should try it sometime, Dean."

Dean snorted. "When the package is this good, you shouldn't ruin it with the wrong packaging," he grinned, gesturing to his lean physique as he leaned against the fence.

Alex laughed. "Dean, you could pierce your nose and get a giant purple mohawk with sideburns and you'd still look hot in a kilt," she said.

Dean flushed slightly, not sure what to make of her comment. She had said it casually with no hint of flirting, but she had still undeniably called him hot. Not for the first time, he found himself slightly confused by this girl. She could make fun of him without making him feel stupid or insulted and could compliment him without it seeming like a come-on. Same with her brother, in a different sort of way.

"What about Sam?" he deflected. "You have to admit he'd look like Patrick Swayze in _To Wong Foo_ in a kilt."

Alex laughed again, giving Sam a wink. "Nah," she said. "He'd just have to take his shirt off. Nobody would even notice the kilt."

Now it was Sam's turn to flush, thinking to himself that Alex seemed to find his embarrassment as entertaining as Dean did. Of course, she tended to inflict a rather gentler form of humiliation than Dean's usual burrito-farting jokes and he couldn't help but smile with her and his brother.

Josh returned with four coffees, two black and two with extra cream. "Sorry, Bro," he said to Sam. "They didn't have any vanilla shots."

"So what's our next move?" Alex asked, removing the lid of her coffee to cool it faster.

"Well," Dean suggested simply, "we have the location of the stones. Let's just blow them up."

Both the Brentons turned sharply towards him. "Blow them up?!" Josh looked shocked and more than a little skeptical.

"Well, they're a little big to destroy with a hammer," Dean replied sarcastically, enjoying their startled reaction.

"We can make some explosives from pretty basic household compounds and use them to destroy the circle," Sam explained.

"You mean, _**I **_can," corrected Dean.

Sam looked sharply at his brother. "You're not going up there alone, Dean," he warned. "There are still two McCulloch's alive and the librarian has seen your face too, remember? Not to mention Arawn himself could be roaming around."

"Well it's not like you two gimps can make it there," Dean pointed out, waving his hand towards Josh and Sam, both of whom were still limping. "You saw the map, the stones are like five or six miles from the closest trail or road."

"How are you going to find them anyway?" Sam argued, not liking this idea at all. He pulled out Jonas's map, laying it on the hood of the Impala and looked closely at the location of the stones. "There is no trail at all to them as far as I can see. They're almost half a mile from this river, but there are no bridges and it's at least class two rapids most of the way so you can't get there by boat. They're in the middle of miles of trees!"

"We can use the GPS," Alex suggested. "It's open along the river edge so we can follow it up from this road and cut in at the stones and go the last half mile through the trees."

"What do you mean, _we_?" Josh demanded. Upon receiving an indignant glare from his sister explaining her intentions, he added, "Hell no! You're definitely not going."

Alex's back stiffened and she glared at her brother. "Don't even go there," she said coldly. "It's broad daylight, Arawn only comes at night. The chances of us running into Freaky Librarian and her Peter Pan Daddy in the middle of the woods are about eight million to one, so don't even think of treating me like a little kid on this one," she ranted with a tone of voice that dared her brother to challenge her.

Josh clenched his jaw and forced himself to think about the points she had just made. Dean and Sam watched the face-off in silent amusement, inwardly betting on who would win. They were both right.

"Ok," Josh relented. "You're right. But you had better take evergreen stakes and plenty of silver bullets." He turned to Dean, "You okay with this?"

Dean gave Josh an impudent wink. "She's safe with me, dude." He was fairly certain they wouldn't run into Arawn in the middle of the day and with Alex there he wouldn't have to admit he wasn't sure how to use the new GPS that Sam had picked up in the months Dean had been gone.

"Good," Alex said, relieved and a bit surprised her brother had agreed so quickly. She was actually excited at the prospect of blowing up the stones. _How cool was that?_ The thought of spending a day in the woods with Dean Winchester was a little more daunting but she would admit she found herself a bit intrigued by him. She liked both brothers and found Sam to be sweet and easy to be around, but she hadn't quite decided what she thought of the older Winchester yet. He seemed more complicated with a little more Harvey Dent thrown in the mix.

Josh jerked his thumb at Sam, who was giving his coffee an unimpressed sniff. "What are Junior and I supposed to do all day?"

"Why don't you two go see Jonas' friend Frank, in case this doesn't work and we need more intel?" she suggested to her brother, not wanting to leave him with nothing to do as she knew he would just worry and call her every half hour. She loved her brother to death and knew more than anyone how much he had given up to become her protector, but sometimes she wished he didn't feel quite so responsible for her. She wasn't that thirteen year old girl that had cried and cried and begged him not to leave her when he went traveling for a year before college.

It was agreed, however reluctantly, that Josh and Sam would head to Grace College while Dean and Alex hiked to the stones. They decided to grab their gear and head out right away so they would be back well before dark.

As Dean and Sam drove in the Impala back to the motel, Sam expressed his distaste for the current plan. "This thing drags people to Hell, Dean. I don't think you should be tempting fate like this."

"You're just jealous 'cause this time I get Buffy and you get Angel," his brother teased.

"Dean, I'm serious," Sam continued. "You've already used your Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free Card. You think Castiel's gonna jet down there a second time if you get sent back? There's no way you're gonna be that lucky twice."

Dean sighed. "Look, Sammy," he softened his voice. "Arawn's not gonna be there, I wouldn't take a civilian with me if I thought he would be. I'm not taking any unnecessary risks. If your theory is right and we don't stop him from coming back, two more people are gonna die. Actually, five more because now the Adams Family needs three more bodies to take over. Innocent people, Sam. Whatever else is going on, it's still our job to make sure that doesn't happen. And besides, if Arawn shows up, I promise, we spilt."

Sam relented, giving his trademark huff to show that he still didn't like being left out of it.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Not the most exciting chapter, I know, but tomorrow's chapter is long and that's where the real meat of the story gets started. This was the first story I ever wrote and it took me a little bit to get warmed up :) Hope you're enjoying it and keep reading!_


	8. Ready to Blow Some Shit Up, Murdoch?

_This chap has a bit of Brenton background and some Winchester memories in the first half but the action kicks in when Dean and Alex reach the stones. It's a long one but I hope you enjoy._

**Chapter 8 -** **Ready to Blow Some Shit Up, Murdoch?**

Alex climbed into the front seat of the Impala and flashed its handsome driver a grin. "Ready to blow some shit up, Murdoch?"

Dean threw the car in drive and headed out of the motel parking lot, pushing a cassette tape into the Chevy's stereo. "Totally," he grinned back as AC/DC's _TNT_ blasted out of the speakers. "But with this handsome mug, I'm Face, not Murdoch," he added, correcting her A-Team reference.

Alex admired the Impala's interior from the front seat for a couple of minutes, as was customary for most new guests in the car. Dean let himself enjoy the praise, the pride he felt for his beloved Chevy relishing the feeding. It wasn't long before she turned her attention to his music collection. Hauling out the box of tapes, she rummaged through.

"Awesome collection you've got here," she commended him, "but…"

Dean raised his hand and cut her off. "Awesome collection, period. No buts."

She laughed and continued. "Okay, awesome collection _although..._ it seems to stop at 1989. You know they still made music after that, right?" she added sarcastically. "Of course, they used CD's." She looked up at Dean. "You know, those shiny round things."

Dean snorted.

"I could totally hook you up with an iPod jack in here," she offered sincerely. "Josh could install it in like, five minutes, that way you could…"

"No iPods, no friggin mp3's, and no CD's!" Dean objected. "This beauty's a classic and cassette tapes are the way real music was supposed to be enjoyed," he said firmly, caressing his dashboard and promptly ending the blasphemous discussion.

They parked the car not far from the bridge where the highway crossed the river at the closest point to their destination, which was still a good five mile hike away. Dean opened the trunk and pulled out his duffel slowly, careful not to jostle the homemade explosives he and Sam had whipped up. He gently placed a few evergreen stakes in the bag also, handing a couple to Alex. "Just in case," he grinned.

She reached into her pocket with both hands and handed Dean almost two dozen silver bullets. He set the bag down to load up his clip and his spare with the more effective hardware, silently wondering how much buying these had set the Brentons back. "What are you packing?" he inquired.

She pulled out a small 9mm handgun and a wooden stake. "Paolo Santo," she explained of the latter.

Dean nodded his approval at the stake. Paolo Santo was a holy wood from Peru that could supposedly harm demons; he had never used it but had heard about it from Tamara and Isaac. He eyed the gun skeptically. "What is that, a 2075 Rami?" he asked with a touch of sarcasm. "That is _such_ a girl's gun."

"Duuuh," Alex retorted, pointing at herself with both hands to point out the obvious female features. "I like it; it's small and doesn't look bulky under my clothes."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's only got what, ten rounds?"

"Plus one in the chamber," Alex defended. "If what I'm shooting at doesn't go down with eleven bullets in it, I won't be shooting anymore, I'll be running."

"Point taken," Dean laughed, grabbing the crossbow and slamming the trunk closed. They had pulled off the road into the trees and took the time to cover the Impala's exposed parts with branches before leaving.

They followed the fast-flowing river upstream, keeping close to the steep, rocky bank where the trees were more sparse. Dean led the way, carrying the duffel over his shoulder and the crossbow in his hands. The majority of the conversation for the first mile involved hunting, with Alex asking most of the questions. Dean was a fountain of information for the less experienced hunter, having battled a vast array of supernatural creatures throughout his life. A few embellishments were made in his telling of the hunting stories and instances of him getting captured or hurt and Sam, Bobby, or his father saving his ass were harmlessly revised, placing him in the hero's role.

Upon hearing about Samuel Colt's gun and its power, Alex started grilling him about it. "So it was a .38 calibre 1836 Texas Patterson?... Could another gun just like it be given the same power or just that specific one?... Could it really kill anything?... Who was this Bela chick and did she still have it?... Who would she have sold it to?..."

Dean guessed she was hoping to get her hands on it and use it to kill her red-eye stalker and admitted to her he had little hope of ever finding the gun again and the conversation moved on. Like Sam, he avoided any talk of his recent trip to the pit, angels having chosen him for some unknown purpose, and Lucifer's possible rising.

Alex's hunting experience was more limited, mostly angry spirits, poltergeists, and cursed objects, with a lot of salt and burns. Dean chuckled as she told the story of the trouble she and her brother had run into on what should have been a simple hunt in Maine. They had figured out a run of killings had been caused by an old ship captain's wife, whose spirit was still bound to a collection of jewellery, the only possessions of hers that had not gone down with her husband's ship.

The Brentons had, with much difficulty, rounded up all the pieces but one and had discovered that the connection could be broken by submerging them in water, so they threw them into the ocean. They had finally stolen the last piece, a broach, from an elderly lady's private collection but were being chased by the spirit of the Captain's wife so Alex tossed the broach off the side of a bridge into a river as they sped over it. Unfortunately, the broach landed in a small boat that happened to be passing underneath the bridge at that very moment and, after finally escaping the spirit, they tracked down the boat at a local marina. In another unfortunate coincidence, the boat owner had been turned down by Alex at a bar a couple of nights prior and was 'being a dick about it'. As the guy was getting in his car, Josh finally got frustrated and just decked him, grabbing the broach. After hearing of their bad luck so far, Dean wasn't all that surprised at the next unfortunate coincidence for the spirit chose that very moment to show up again, now extremely angry. The Brentons were chased to a completely empty storage shed and managed to shut themselves inside but the Captain's wife hammered at the door. Alex was laughing as she told Dean the story, shaking her head at the memory and Dean found her cheer infectious.

"I thought we were dead for sure, but just as she bust the door down, she went poof and turned to dust." She grinned at Dean. "Josh figured out how to do her in."

Dean laughed, guessing exactly what Josh had done as it was exactly what he would have thought of had he been in the same situation. "He pissed on the broach!"

"Not his classiest moment," Alex chuckled, "but he did save our asses after our ridiculous string of bad luck."

"Well your brother did say you had a nose for finding trouble." Even Dean had to admit, that story certainly seemed to confirm Josh's statement.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Oh great, let me guess." She mimicked her brother's smooth, laid back way of talking. "_Five hundred people go into a convenience store every day, but the second Lex goes in, it'll get robbed_." She threw her hands up. "Convenience stores get robbed every day! Statistically it's not that inconceivable that in twenty five years I happen to have been present for four of those robberies."

"You've been in _four_ armed robberies?" Dean asked incredulously, now starting to really think Josh hadn't been exaggerating about his sister being a trouble magnet.

"Coincidence," she stressed. "Three of them had no supernatural players whatsoever."

"And the other one?" He stopped to take a drink of water, turning to face her.

Her shoulders sank and she hesitated before explaining, the smile fading from her face. "Red-Eyes," she said simply.

"Your super-demon robbed a convenience store?" Dean sounded skeptical.

"No," she said indignantly. "A couple of gang-banger junkies robbed the convenience store and when the store owners pulled out shotguns, they took the fifteen year old girl that was in there as a human shield. Red-Eyes showed up in the alley behind the store and pretty much tore one of them to shreds." She spoke indifferently, as if the girl in her story hadn't actually been her.

"Wait a minute," Dean contemplated with a frown. "So this demon of yours _saved_ you?"

Alex shrugged. "Couldn't have anyone else playing with his chew toy, I guess."

They continued moving along the riverbank. Although there was no path, the ground was fairly even and the walking easy. Dean couldn't get his mind off the next hunt on his list, this red-eyed bastard of Alex's. "If you know other hunters, why have none of them helped you out with Red-Eyes?"

"Some of them have tried," she replied, sounding uncomfortable. "But he's a mean sonofabitch. Immune to holy water, salt, silver, iron." She ignored Dean's snort. "I know what you're thinking, Dean, but you're wrong. I've hit it with all of those things myself. And the hunters who've tried, they were experienced hunters," she defended, guessing he was thinking he would have done better. "Tamara and Isaac had been hunting for years, they knew their shit."

"Tamara and Isaac? Married couple from Virginia? Tamara has a British accent?"

Her eyes lit up. "You know them?" she asked, a little excitedly. "What are they up to? How are they doing? I lost touch with them after our move."

"Uhhh," Dean hesitated. _Shit, she didn't know about Isaac_. "Yeah, I met them last year in Nebraska. Uh, look I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this but Isaac was killed by a group of demons."

Alex gasped but didn't say anything for a few moments as they walked in silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was hushed and her eyes were moist. "Poor Tamara," she said softly. "First Simone, now Isaac."

"Who's Simone?"

"Their daughter. She was killed by a couple of Tokolosh demons when she was two. They tracked them down to an African freighter that was in the harbour and wasted them. That's how they got into hunting in the first place. Tamara must be devastated. She and Isaac were…." her voice grew choked, "…really close."

Dean waited a moment, allowing the girl to process before returning to his original line of questioning. "So they tried to kill your demon for you?" he pressed.

"Yeah. About three and a half years ago. Drew a devil's trap on the floor together with some spell that involved Gofer dust and silver charms. Stayed with us for over three weeks waiting for it to show up. They had silver bullets, holy water, this..." she held up her wooden stake, "...and they didn't get a chance to try any of it."

"What happened?"

Alex shrugged. "It came, the lights all went out, and next thing I know they're all banging on the bathroom door to get in and I'm bleeding all over the sink. They smashed in the door but it was already gone. It doesn't generally make an appearance unless I'm by myself."

Dean's brow furrowed. "They didn't even get a shot at it? Why didn't they stick around, wait for it to come back?" He couldn't help but think they had let Alex down. It was a hunter's duty to finish the job. "Maybe bring flashlights," he added sarcastically. The Winchesters always finished the job, no matter how tough it got.

He could tell Alex was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation now that the topic was personal. She didn't seem big on sharing, unlike her brother. She didn't say anything for a moment but instead rolled her sleeve up a turn and held out her arm to him, turned upwards. Beneath the leather bracelet he recognized as the one he had won at the fair that morning, was a scar running straight across her wrist.

"He gets extra pissed when I have help and try to kill him," she explained, rolling her sleeve back down quickly. "That was a close one. I lost a lot of blood and came really close to dying. They put me on suicide watch at the hospital. After that, Josh refuses to let any hunters try again. We moved, and now we just split every time he finds us," she said with a shrug.

"Or when my brother has made his way through all the available women in that town, whichever comes first," she added, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah but you can't keep living that way," Dean argued. "You can't spend your entire life running."

"Actually," Alex stopped for a second, pulling out her water bottle. "I don't mind it." She took a long drink. "After Josh went away to college, it came once, even twice a week. I was having a real hard time hiding the cuts and bruises. And I was scared _all the time_. Now, I get anywhere from six weeks to six months at a time free and clear. I don't spend my days looking over my shoulder anymore. And hey, I get to travel, see all sorts of freaky places across the country. Did you know, Sevierville, Tennessee is the birthplace of Dolly Parton and has an eighteen hole medieval miniature golf course?" She smiled, obviously trying to change the subject. "How many people can say they've scored three under par on a course like that even with the drawbridge being out of order?"

Dean smiled back, allowing her deflection for a brief moment and falling in behind her as she walked on. He'd scored four under par on that very course as a teen - bragged about it for weeks.

"So you only tried the once? You're giving up on killing it?" he pressed eventually.

"No," she called back without turning around to face him. "Someone tried to kill it on two other occasions, and both times people died. I'm not about to let anyone else die on my account."

Her last remark hit home and Dean let the subject drop. This he could relate to; his father having died saving him and more than one friend had met their demise at the hands of something that was after the Winchesters. That guilt was a heavy burden to bear. He decided not to press and let the conversation end. Ten minutes or so passed and they walked in silence before Alex turned to face him, a grin across her face.

"So, Robin Hood you gonna teach me how to use that thing?" She pointed at the crossbow Dean was carrying.

"You don't know how to use one of these?" Dean smirked. "And you call yourself a hunter."

Alex ignored the tease. "Actually, I don't consider myself a hunter at all," she answered. "We may go after the occasional ghost, but this," she held up her Santo Paolo stake, "is not my life. Just a part of it. And so far, I have never had use for a freaking bow and arrow."

Dean stopped abruptly, dropping his duffel on the ground at his feet. Although he didn't think there was much chance of meeting up with Arawn on this daytime venture, the girl should know how to defend herself, just in case. Alex realized his intentions and stopped also, walking the few feet back to where he stood with an eager grin.

Dean was a good teacher, having taught Sam most of what he knew after his Dad had trained his eldest. He started by describing the various parts of the crossbow and demonstrating how to first cock the bow and load the arrows before handing the weapon over for Alex to try. She listened attentively and successfully loaded the weapon on her first attempt.

Dean grinned at his pupil. "Good, you caught on faster than Sammy."

Alex smiled at the praise.

"Of course," Dean chuckled, "he was twelve when I taught him."

Her smile turned to a humorous scowl. "You taught your brother how to shoot one of these when he was only twelve?"

"Yeah, well, the little rebel refused to take it in school. He had it in his thick head that he wanted to take soccer instead of archery." The word soccer was spoken in time with an eye-roll. "My dad sure was pissed," he added quietly, the memory coming back to him.

"So your dad gave in and let him take soccer instead?"

"Well, no actually. He took soccer and we lied to my dad for the whole season. I covered for him at practice times and taught him how to shoot the damn bow on the sly so we wouldn't get found out." Dean wasn't sure if this should be a fond memory but he couldn't help but think of it as one. Probably because the look on Sam's face when his team won. "It worked beautifully until Sam's team won the 1995 Division Championship and the kid was so proud he brought the trophy home and let the cat out of the bag. Man, did I get in shit for that one."

He started the explanation of how to hold the crossbow when firing, demonstrating as he talked. "The safety automatically comes on once you cock the bow, but you should always check just to be sure, 'cause if this thing releases while your hand is in the way, you're not gonna be able to flip that brother of yours the bird ever again."

Alex listened but couldn't help but ponder the story Dean had just told her, wondering what type of man their father must have been. What kind of guy drags his young sons into a full-time hunter's life and forces them take archery instead of soccer? Even the little information about the Winchester family that Sam had shared the previous day had her thinking Papa Winchester was likely one seriously scary individual.

Dean fired a single arrow, taken from the stash that Sam had fashioned from evergreen wood before going after what he had believed to be some sort of Asian God of the Afterlife in one of his failed attempts to get his big brother out of Hell. The arrow left the bow with barely a sound and landed dead center of the tree the hunter had set as his mark. Alex whistled her admiration of the shot and took the weapon Dean was handing her. She lifted it up to her chin, placing the butt against her shoulder as instructed.

"No, rotate your shoulders around more this way," Dean directed, taking a hold of her shoulders and turning her slightly towards the tree. "Face what you're aiming at. It's not golf." He leaned his head in close behind her to get a line on how she was pointing the weapon, practically breathing on her neck, hands still on her shoulders. "A little lower," was all he said before pulling back. Sam would be dumbstruck, Dean thought to himself as she readjusted and fired. Normally, the more amorous older Winchester brother would have taken full advantage of the one-on-one instruction to make a shameless move, especially on such an attractive pupil, but his mind was still toying with the memories of teaching Sam how to use the same weapon many years ago.

As with anything, Sam had picked up the skill quickly, almost as quickly as Dean had. Dean had walked Sam to all his soccer practices and games, and even managed to stay to watch most of them. Sam had been a good player and had enjoyed the time in the company of other twelve year olds that didn't talk about angry spirits and demons. It had been fun watching Sam with the other kids and it had amazed Dean how well he seemed to fit in, a skill that Dean had never quite mastered. He had made friends at the various schools they had gone to, sure, but all friendships had been short lived and he had never divulged their family secrets to them. Though he had never really felt like he fit in at any of the schools, he had always convinced himself he was fine with that, unlike Sam, who hated it. Dean had his dad and his brother and that was all he needed. Sam wanted more.

Sam's soccer team had been one of the few things Dean had ever lied to his father about and he had done so for the entire semester. He had even typed a fake archery class schedule that matched the soccer schedule and had given it to his dad, knowing there was no risk of John showing up at any of the classes to see how his son was doing. On the days their father had been away on a hunt, which had been many, Dean had taught Sam the basics and the two had practiced in the woods behind the motel, shooting arrows at painted bulls-eyes and the occasional rabbit.

When his Dad had found out, the shit really hit the fan. Sam was just starting to question their Dad's one hundred percent obedience rule and his rebellious days were dawning. Sam had insisted he had forgotten to hide the soccer trophy but Dean had a suspicion his brother had placed it on the kitchen table in plain sight on purpose. John had been furious, partly at the disobedience, but mostly at the deception. And Dean had taken the brunt of the punishment; that he remembered very clearly.

That summer, however, had turned out to be one of the happiest times in Dean's life. His dad had surprised them by allowing Sam to go to soccer camp while John and Caleb tracked down a Mesopotamian Storm Demon. Although Dean had not liked the idea of being separated from Sam for over six weeks, he had been excited about the prospect of going on his first serious 'big-game' hunt. Since he had turned sixteen he pretty much felt as invincible as child-Sam had always thought him to be. Dean had been furious when he was informed he was not going on the hunt and that he was to stay at Bobby's for the duration since it was near Sam's soccer camp. That way he would be able to keep an eye on his little brother, he had been told. Bobby had always been nice to the boys, if a little gruff, but at sixteen, Singer's Auto Salvage was the last place Dean had wanted to spend his summer.

At first, it had been obvious Bobby had no idea how to please this sour, foul-mouthed teenager he had somehow been landed with. He had smacked the boy on the back of the head more than once, but the attitude and the curse words just kept coming. Dean knew John had ordered Bobby not to let him leave and that was the reason the older man had watched him like a hawk. He had just wanted to go check on Sam but Bobby wouldn't let him hitchhike the eighty miles to Sam's camp. Bobby eventually showed up with a banged-up sport bike and offered to show Dean how to fix it up. Not interested in a Ninja, a bike he considered to have been made for pussies and chicks, Dean had not been polite in his response. But Bobby seemed to enjoy talking cars so he let the older mechanic instruct and, eventually, started to listen.

Working on cars and the bike with Bobby had been very different than with his father. Bobby had chatted the entire time and had listened to Dean's stories as well. He had asked for the socket wrench rather than ordering Dean to pass it over. He had taken the time to explain every piece of every engine they had worked on, often comparing each component to various parts of the female anatomy. The bike had been finished within a week and Bobby had agreed to let Dean go visit Sam on it every couple of days. That summer at the Singer junkyard had turned out to be one of his fondest memories, despite the fact that he had spent most of it so far from Sam. Besides, his father and Caleb never did catch up with the demon they had been tracking, so it would have been a disappointing summer had he been allowed to go with them anyway.

Alex's first shot was wide, her second low, but the third hit the tree, if not the bulls-eye knob. The impromptu lesson over, they continued up the riverside with only occasional light conversation, Alex now carrying the crossbow. She was really curious to know more about the Winchester walking in front of her; he definitely seemed to keep things a little deeper inside than his younger counterpart. Both brothers clearly had secrets, that much she could tell but she wasn't about to pry. It had been her experience that if you asked too many questions, people eventually started asking them back and she wanted to avoid that. Josh may believe it would help her to share her feelings and talk about all that emo crap, but it had never been her style. She would go through the motions with her brother every so often to keep him happy and help stay the guilt he always put on himself. Apart from that, she would rather keep people at arm's length.

Of course, that was always easier with regular people, as you couldn't tell them anything about yourself anyway in fear of blowing your cover and your false identity. With hunters, that need for secrecy was gone. And these two Winchesters, though seriously screwed up, were damn likeable.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Sam hopped in the passenger seat of the Bronco as he watched Dean and Alex pulled out of the motel parking lot. Josh started up the engine and the radio turned on but Sam ignored it, his eyes following the disappearing Impala and his mood sour.

He still wasn't happy about being separated from Dean for the second day in a row. He felt slightly guilty about wanting to work with Josh and Alex in the first place, realizing it was him that had been craving some space. It was just that things had been tense since Dean had returned from Hell and he dared not call Ruby with his brother around and he wanted an update from her. Did she have any new information on what the angels wanted with Dean? Did she have any leads on Lillith?

Everything had turned out fine yesterday but Sam still didn't like the idea of Dean alone in the middle of nowhere facing off against the librarian and the sheriff, never mind the creature the pair had summoned from Hell. He realized Dean wasn't alone and had a lot of respect for Alex, but it was his job to have Dean's back and as brave as she may be, Sam seriously doubted she'd be able to save him if things turned ugly. On top of that, he was being sent to do research that would likely turn out to be completely unnecessary. And the icing on the cake was that his knee was still causing him considerable pain and Sam hated being less than one hundred percent capable. That was something all the Winchester men had in common.

Some unfamiliar music was playing on the stereo and he reached up, flicking the button to switch the station. "What is this crap," he laughed, "Reggae?"

No sooner than he had touched the car stereo, a hand struck his wrist, knocking his arm away. "Hey! Driver controls the music!" Josh cried. "That means you in the bitchseat have to keep quiet about it!" he added with a grin.

Sam couldn't help but liken Josh's comments to those he had heard countless times from Dean at the helm in the Impala over the past three years. Josh shook his head as he switched the CD back on to the reggae. "Don't ever diss my man, Bob Marley!" The reggae beat of _Rat Race_ came flooding back through the speakers as Josh pulled out of the parking lot, singing along as he turned onto the highway in the opposite direction that Dean and Alex had taken. "Bob Marley is a symbol of Peace and Tolerance," he lectured the younger hunter. "He had a natural harmonious spirit that affected everyone around him." He then delved into a full five-minute lecture about Bob Marley and his peace-loving philosophies.

Sam groaned but laughed. "How did you and Dean survive a whole day together?"

Josh winked at him. "Common ground, my friend. Plenty of common ground."

"You mean the big brother thing?" Sam snorted. "Me and Alex?"

"Well, I was actually talking about Pink Floyd, but now that you mention it," the blond man grinned.

It was over an hour's drive to Grace College and Josh played reggae the entire trip. Sam caught glimpses of him grinning teasingly as he sang along to most of it or drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Unlike Alex, however, Josh was an open book when it came to the Brenton family history. Dean must not have asked many questions all day yesterday, because Josh willingly answered all of Sam's - with the exception of ones that involved details on the red-eyed creature. Direct questions on the creature itself were answered vaguely or the subject was changed right away. When Sam called him on it, Josh explained that he didn't want Sam and Dean to get any ideas about trying to go after the thing. Other hunters had tried and it had never ended well.

Josh had explained that it started showing up when Alex was about five when they lived in Malibu but that nobody ever saw it. Teachers grew suspicious of parental abuse as Alex would explain the bruises were caused by 'the scary monster'. No matter how many times they asked her, their parents couldn't get a believable explanation out of their daughter. Eventually they had moved to Santa Cruz to get away from the prying teachers and CPS officers and their mother had made no secret to Alex as to whose fault it was they had to move. Alex had stopped talking about the monster to anyone but her big brother, who at that time was the only one who believed her. But by the time she turned eight, when Josh was thirteen, his parents had convinced him that his little sister was making up the monster and hurting herself for attention. He got annoyed with Alex one day and yelled at her to stop the lies, accusing her of causing trouble. After that, Alex had hidden the injuries and explained the more obvious ones as accidents, such as falling off her bike or walking into a door. Josh explained that it had actually been quite believable because his sister had always had a knack for finding trouble.

"For over nine years she went through that over and over and I didn't see a thing," Josh said at one point, his voice laden with guilt. "I thought I was such a great brother 'cause I let her tag along wherever I went. My friends didn't even mind," he smiled fondly. "She was so adorable when she was little. She did everything we did, and let me tell you bro," he grinned over at Sam, "she was better than a puppy when it came to scoring points with the ladies."

Sam laughed and shook his head, not sure if it was sweet or deplorable that this guy would use his little sister to pick up chicks. Josh reminded him of Dean in so many ways... yet he was so completely different.

Josh explained that Alex never had many friends in school, and never any close ones besides his own close knit group of buddies. In junior high, she started to sneak into his room at night and sleep on the rug by his bed, leaving before morning. He never asked her why, not wanting to embarrass her; he had just given her an extra blanket and let her be. He had always thought she was just insecure, but had been too clueless to realize she was just scared to be alone because that was when the bastard would show up.

If that had been a bad time for Alex, it got ten times worse when Josh had left home. He had spent a year traveling then enrolled in Stanford College in Paolo Alto. He had come home from college most weekends, but his sister was virtually left alone. Red-Eyes started visiting her more frequently and she became more and more withdrawn during these years. This, in turn, frustrated their mother more, who was, Josh admitted, somewhat obsessed with appearances and the family's social standing.

Josh came home a few weeks before his fourth year was to finish because Alex's high school 'boyfriend' had accused her of pushing him down the stairs at her home. Josh had grilled her about what happened until she finally broke and told him that Red-Eyes had done it. He hadn't believed her, of course, it sounding so ridiculous and all, but she had shown him the scabbed-over slash marks on her shoulder and the dark bruising around her wrist and on her side. And at seventeen, it was a lot harder to believe she would be blaming a 'scary monster'. He had paid the boyfriend a visit, strongly suggesting he drop the charges and never go near Alex again, a suggestion the little punk quickly agreed to.

That was when Josh had learned monsters really did exist. He dropped out of college and spent the next few months researching and asking questions. He finally met a hunter, a guy by the name of Grant Hebert, who informed him it was a demon and gave him a book containing exorcisms that would both summon the demon and send it back to Hell. It didn't work. Not long after, their parents were killed in a burglary so Josh decided that he and Alex should just run.

Josh had lied to Sam on that one point only. Out of habit, he never mentioned the real cause of their parent's death, especially to Alex. She didn't talk about it now, but he knew she still blamed herself, despite the fact that the whole thing had been his idea.

Sam was a little shocked upon hearing the whole story. He had always thought he and Dean had had the worst childhood imaginable, with an obsessed, revenge-driven ex-marine for a father and no real home to speak of. Although he had been scared quite often as a child and in his teens, he had admittedly always felt somewhat safe because Dean had always been there to protect him. The life their dad had raised them into was dark and scary and Sam had resented being forced to live that way, but he had always had a sense of security because Sam had known his father or Dean, especially Dean, would stop at nothing to protect him. Alex had lived her entire childhood with nobody to look out for her and a monster terrorizing her. Though Sam didn't think it was his fault, Josh hadn't been for Alex what Dean had been for him.

"How does it keep finding you?" he asked.

Josh shook his head. "I have no idea," he replied. "Maybe it has to do with Lexie's weird ghost vibe; maybe he senses her. I just don't know."

They rode in silence for the last twenty minutes of the trip, each feeling guilty about the sufferings of their respective siblings. Sam could relate to Josh's guilt over leaving for college. He hadn't realized it at the time, but his walking out had really hurt Dean. He had been so self-absorbed, so dead set on getting out from under his father's thumb and getting out of the hunting life, that he had left them both, without stopping to think that maybe Dean had needed him. Since Dean always seemed to follow Dad's orders so obediently and was always so quick to jump on a possible hunt, Sam had assumed Dean would be happy alone with Dad. No more Sammy to watch out for. No more getting in between Sam and his father during their many heated arguments. He had been so miserable in that life that he hadn't thought of Dean, hadn't realized that he and Dad were all Dean had.

Having only been six months old when their mother had died, Sam had never felt that sense of loss that Dean had over the tragedy. Now, after all they had been through, he had come to realize the extent of everything his brother had given him, everything Dean had sacrificed for him. Not just the deal with the Crossroads Demon, but everything, from the day the Yellow-Eyed Demon had come to their house in Lawrence, Kansas. Dean had given him a childhood, something the elder brother only had until he was five. Sure, maybe it wasn't all boy scouts and birthday parties at Chucky-Cheese, but Dean had done the best he could for Sam. After all, he had only been a child himself. It had been Dean that had helped him with his homework, read stories to him at night, taken him to soccer practice, dealt with the bullies at school that had picked on Sam. He had been encouraging, attentive, and even affectionate to Sam during their younger years, something John had rarely been for Dean.

Sam's thoughts drifted to his father. He had no doubt John had loved his sons and Sam had come to understand and respect the man more since his death, since his sacrifice for Dean. John had suffered a terrible loss when Mary had died, one Sam could relate to having lost Jessica. Although their lives had been far from normal, the man had raised two sons as best as he could and had come through for Dean when it had really mattered. Now if only all this madness with wars and demons would end, maybe he and Dean would have a chance at happiness, at peace.

SPN-SPN-SPN

"So maybe you can clear something up for me." Alex's words were broken by heavy breaths as they came to the top of a particularly steep, rocky slope.

"What's that?" Dean answered, continuing the casual chatter the two had been enjoying for the last hour. Alex was keen to learn anything about hunting and was satisfyingly impressed with his recounting of the various Winchester exploits. She rarely asked questions of a personal nature and on the two occasions one had slipped out, she made a joke and changed the subject, letting him off the hook without answering. He gladly returned the favour, no longer pressing the subject of this red-eyed monster of hers.

"Well, this thing is supposed to be a God. Shouldn't all gods be good and devils be bad?"

"That's a loaded question," Dean laughed, stopping for a second to catch his breath at the top of the hill. "I would say this is a Pagan God, which are mostly bad. Only _The _God," Dean pointed upwards, "is all good. Though all demons are definitely bad and I think it's a safe bet that the Devil is all bad."

Alex gave him a curious look. "You don't believe in God do you? I mean, _God _God?"

Dean continued on in front of her, not turning as he spoke. "You know, I think I do. Don't you?"

Alex snorted. "Nope, I definitely don't. And anyway, doesn't this Arawn dude prove that there are many Gods, not just one? Weren't Pagan Gods worshiped by people who didn't follow God Himself? So if Arawn is real, then that means they were right and the Christians etcetera were wrong and God doesn't exist."

Dean kept walking but turned to give her a amused glance. "You sound so sure."

"Yeah, well, if there is one God who is supposed to be all-seeing, all-powerful, and all-knowing, then He would have to pretty much suck at his job, right? He doesn't lift a finger to help all the good people who have all kinds of bad shit happen to them. Innocent people. What kind of divine master plan allows genocide and pestilence and famine and earthquakes and evil sonsofbitches roaming the country terrorizing people for years on end?"

Dean didn't have an answer for that one. Castiel wasn't very forthcoming with answers.

"And if there _was_ a God," she quickly added, anxious to cover any hint of self-pity her last comment had implied, "OJ would have been found guilty and the Rocky movies would have stopped at III."

It was clear to Dean what she really meant. That if God was real, then the sonofabitch had chosen to ignore her suffering.

To Alex, it meant even worse - that He had allowed her parents to get killed and had taken away any chance Josh had of living a happy life. And if anyone was deserving of that, it was Josh. So she refused to believe God was real.

"Anyway," she finished up, "if the big guy is real, then the Devil is real. Sure we see the Devil's minions all the time. I mean, demons seem to be everywhere this past year or so. But then why don't we see God's crew? Why do we never run into angels and have fairy godmothers following us around?"

Dean debated telling her the truth but he wasn't even really sure of what it was himself. "I used to believe exactly the same thing," he admitted.

"And now you don't?"

"The past little while, I've seen some really weird stuff... and not all of it bad," he evaded. "I don't know everything, but I really do believe there is a God, but maybe He's just not as all-powerful and all-knowing as we think. Maybe He needs all the help He can get. Maybe angels are real but just not as obvious about being here as demons."

Alex seemed to be considering his words for she was silent for a few moments. "I guess with the number of demons around these days, we're pretty screwed if there _isn't_ a God with some minions of his own," she chuckled quietly.

Dean turned to her and winked. "We'll kick ass. Don't you worry."

She smiled back at him then noticed something up ahead. "What's that?" She pointed.

Dean turned to see a small wooden shack nestled in the edge of the woods across the river. Accepting the opportunity to change the subject, he answered. "Looks like a hunting shack or a fishing shack. There's a deep pond here," he pointed to the widened banks of the river just up from the shack. "That's probably great for fishing."

"You fish?" she asked.

"Well, my Dad's friend Bobby took Sam and me once when I was about twelve." Dean laughed at the memory. "I was kicking ass at fly fishing, caught a trout this big my first hour." He held his hands about eighteen inches apart. In actual fact, the fish had been about nine inches including its tail. "But little Sammy, he didn't like it so much. He kept whining that Bobby didn't let him bring his books." Dean rolled his eyes but smiled fondly. "I mean the kid was eight and he would rather read than ride his bike. Anyway, he got all huffy and tried to steal my spot so he was standing right next to me, flicked the rod, and got the hook stuck right in my ear. He thought it was hilarious; kept insisting his catch was bigger and stank worse than my trout."

Alex laughed, trying to picture these two hardened hunters as playful kids. It seemed a bit of a stretch, but it was a nice mental picture. She pulled out the GPS and checked their current location. "Another quarter mile maybe before we turn in towards the stones," she announced.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Josh followed Sam's direction in Winona Lake to reach the college campus, pulling in at a meter in front of the main quad. Students were taking advantage of the warm October weather, some camped out on the grass reading or chatting, others making their way along the pathways carrying books and backpacks. Josh hopped out, pulling on a light jacket and taking in the scene, a slow smile spreading across his face as he came around to the sidewalk to join Sam. "Ahh, college life, bro!" He slapped Sam on the back. "Brings back memories, huh?" he spun around to take a second look at a couple of girls walking by.

Sam shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Josh's Dean-like behavior. "That's right," he said as the two walked towards the building that housed the Religious Studies Department, "you went to Stanford too."

"Yeah, '97 to 01. You started in what, '02? What was your major?" Josh asked.

"I was pre-law."

"No shit? You wanted to be a lawyer?" Josh chuckled. "Figured your brother would need your services in later life?"

Now it was Sam's turn to chuckle. That was the exact same comment Bobby, Caleb, and Pastor Jim had all made when he had first told him of his plans to go to Stanford. "How about you, what were you taking?"

"Criminal Psychology. I was all set to go to Quantico, got early acceptance to the Behavioral Science Unit. But, ya know, things just didn't work out."

"You wanted to be FBI?" Sam snorted. "Imagine us, a Fed and a lawyer. Funny how different things turned out. You, uh, ever regret dropping out?"

"Not for a second," Josh answered confidently. "Family comes first. Besides, I probably would have failed the piss-test," he grinned. "Used to spend too many weekends up at Manresa with my high school bros."

Sam squinted to indicate he wasn't familiar with the place.

Josh held up his hands in mock shock. "Manresa Beach? Surf's all beachbreak but it's great at high tide. Double-overhead on a regular basis." Sam's face was still a blank. "I'm guessing we hung out with different crowds in Paolo Alto, bro," Josh grinned before his face pulled into a look of disgust. "Oh no, tell me you weren't one of those Phi Kappa boys, were you?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah, man I wasn't into the frat scene."

"What?" Josh gestured towards a couple of brunettes across the quad. "You do realize hotties like that flock to the Frat parties. Man, what did you _do_ for almost four years?"

Sam answered the same question he had answered for his brother at least a dozen times in the past three years, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "I studied!" He decided to change the subject. "Professor Pelter's office is in the Cooley Science Centre - over there."

They entered the building and made their way to Frank Pelter's office on the second floor. They found him grading papers with a girl he introduced as his TA, Tracy. Like his friend Jonas, he was friendly and eager to help. He excitedly pulled the aerial photograph Jonas had described out of a drawer and spread it out on the desk. It clearly showed five stones in a circle at the edges of a clearing. They looked about eight feet tall and each had hieroglyphic symbols carved into the inside face. Sam didn't recognize any of them.

"What are these symbols?" he asked the Professor.

"Oh, I believe those are Beaker symbols dating back to the Bronze Age," he replied, searching for something else among the stacks of papers and magazines on a table in the corner.

"Beaker?" Josh asked. "What's that? I thought they were Celts."

"Scottish history dates back over six thousand years," Frank informed him. "About twenty five hundred BC, the art of metalworking reached the area and changed their culture entirely. With the introduction of the sword, shield, dagger, and spearhead, an age of warrior aristocracy began, the top of the food chain being whoever could get their hands on the best weapons. These were the Beaker People. They believed very strongly in the power of stone circles. The Celts didn't come around until the Iron Age, a couple of thousand years later."

Sam was intrigued. "What kind of power did these circles have?" he asked.

"Well, that is a subject of great debate. Some believe they had magical healing powers. The Beakers would lay the sick or injured inside the circle, chant some ancient spells, and the person would be miraculously healed. Others believe that the circles were portals to other worlds and that their Gods could travel through them when summoned."

"Which do you believe?" Josh fished.

Frank shrugged. "The problem with the Beaker People is that they didn't have a written language, so they don't fall into written history." The hunters looked disappointed.

"Ahh, do not despair my young colleagues," Frank laughed, raising his finger in the air. "One can learn much from the languages that follow as they are all based on and influenced heavily by their predecessors." He clutched a handful of papers he had hauled out of one of the stacks. "I have been studying ancient Scottish symbology and languages for years," he grinned. "I've deciphered most of the symbols on the good sheriff's stones." He held up the papers proudly, handing them to Sam. "I even had some of my work published in last year's Isis Ancient Cultures Society newsletter and in Language Magazine."

"Can I have a copy of these?" Sam asked, browsing through them.

"You can have that one, son" the professor offered, seemingly pleased somebody was showing such interest in his work.

"So what do the symbols on the sheriff's stones say?" Josh asked.

"Oh, they explain that the circle is a portal to the Underworld, the Land of the Dead. The signs were used to give the circle its power, to create the portal, so to speak. The guardians of the circle just had to complete the unlocking spell to open it and summon their god through."

"Who was their god?" asked Sam.

"Could be Nodens, Cernunnos, Arawn, Smertrios…" the professor shrugged. "There are so many Celtic Deities, it's hard to tell. Many of the symbols are of wrath and death, but there are also some that signify a second rising of sorts. Now this one here," he pointed to a roundish symbol on one of the stones, "I think may signify a cauldron. Arawn, a God of Wrath and of the Underworld, was said to have a magic cauldron with rejuvenating powers in which he cooks his game. This cauldron will supposedly not cook the meat of a coward, but he could ignite the fires beneath it with his breath. It's likely these stones were meant for him."

"So if one of the stones were destroyed, then the power of the circle would be destroyed with it, right?" Encouraged by the confirmation of their prime suspect, Josh was curious if the Professor could back-up their plan of blowing the stones up.

"No, not at all," the Professor answered. "The power isn't in the stones, it's in the circle itself. The stones are only required to create the portal, along with an unlocking spell. After that, all you need are the opening and closing spells to well, open and close it."

Josh and Sam exchanged a frustrated look. Dean and Alex were wasting their time.

"There was this one set of flats near Glasgow, Scotland," Frank continued. "That's an apartment building, by the way. Anyway, it was built over a supposed ancient Beaker stone circle site. For years after it was constructed in the twenties, there were strange deaths in the building every November. The authorities found a group of men who believed in the old cultures that would meet in one of the apartments every year to recite incantations and chants of worship to their God Lugh. Many believed they were summoning Lugh during this annual ceremony and the deity was wreaking a bit of havoc during his brief time in our world. They believed it so much that the government actually brought in historians to perform the locking ritual and close the portal down for good. They couldn't arrest the men, of course."

"Professor, do you believe in the power of the stones?" Sam asked, amused by Frank's excitable recounting of the story.

"Of course not," he shrugged unconvincingly. "But less than two hundred years ago, the majority of people in Scotland, Ireland, and Wales still did."

"I heard that the lore says people couldn't go through the portals, just the Gods," said Sam, repeating what Bobby had told them last night and wondering if he had missed a way to get Dean out of Hell much sooner.

"Yes, most evidence supports that claim. Gods such as Arawn could come through and could drag unfortunate souls back with them, but without the God that the portal was intended for and the guardian's reciting of the spell, the circle would be useless."

"Do you know any of these opening and closing spells?" Josh asked, hopefully.

"No, I tried to get my hands on the one they used for Lugh, but there doesn't seem to be any record of it," he shook his head with obvious disappointment. "There's a gentleman in southern England that supposedly has an authenticated few in his private collection, but he's not much for sharing. He did tell me they were in Gaelic, which makes sense as many generations and cultures following the Beakers, such as the Celts, the Picts, and even the Medieval Scots, still believed in the power of the stones and followed the same practices. They would have been the ones to finally put the spells in writing."

"Are you guys doing a paper or something?" Until this point, the girl had been quiet, her attention mostly focused on the papers she had been grading.

"Uh yeah," Sam answered, turning his attention to the teaching assistant. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" She narrowed her eyes. "For what class? I haven't seen you around; you don't go here."

"We go to Huntington," Josh supplied. "My partner here," he slapped Sam's shoulder and grinned, "is a real brown-noser. He's doing this for extra credit."

She lifted her chin in an accepting nod, a smug smile appearing on her face as she went back to her work. Sam turned back to the professor.

"Thank-you for your time, sir. You've been a big help." He shook the professor's hand. Josh followed suit then turned to Tracy.

"Nice meeting you, too. Maybe we'll see you around," he winked. She giggled and rolled her eyes as they left the room.

Out in the hall, Josh shoulder-nudged Sam. "Maybe she's got a friend for you, huh?"

Sam laughed, reading the professor's paper as they walked. "Dude, she thought we were gay," he said.

"What?" Josh scoffed. "Why would she think that?"

"You called me your partner," Sam explained without taking his eyes off his reading.

"Yeah, I meant like, study partner or something." Josh continued walking, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why would anyone think we were a couple?"

Sam just shrugged, still reading.

"Dude, this doesn't bother you?" Josh pressed.

"Not really."

"Do people ever think you and Dean are a couple?"

"More than you'd think," Sam answered with a snort.

Josh laughed out loud at that thought as they got into the elevator. "Well I bet Dean just loves that!"

SPN-SPN-SPN

"So, it's Alexis is it?" Dean called up to Alex, who was checking the GPS to confirm this was the spot to turn into the trees.

She scowled as she replied. "Don't even _think_ about calling me that! It's Alex or Lex. And Josh gets away with Lexie. I was born in '83 and my mother was like, _really_ into Dynasty." She rolled her eyes disapprovingly. "And Dallas. Josh's middle name is Roosevelt."

Dean laughed, catching on. "So his initials are J.R.!" He would seriously be ribbing Josh about that later.

"Yeah, lucky for him the nickname didn't stick past elementary school. Okay, this is the spot. The stones should be a half mile that way." She pointed into the trees.

They made their way to the edge of the tree line, both disappointed to be moving into the shade. Less than a hundred feet into the woods, Dean stopped short suddenly, holding his arm out to stop Alex who was just behind him. She stopped as she hit his arm, freezing in her tracks and jerking her head up to see what danger he had spotted. Standing about twenty feet ahead of them, on the top of a large moss-covered rock, was a large wolf.

Dean had expected it to run off right away but it stood its ground, staring at them silently through the shadows. He had never seen one so close, or one so unafraid, and glanced warily around for the rest of the pack. Alex took a step out from behind him, moving up slowly to stand next to him. It seemed to be watching her. "It's a grey wolf," she whispered, standing still again so as not to scare it away.

The three stood in silence for a couple of long minutes. The wolf slowly came down from its rock and took a few steps towards them, sniffing the air nervously. It didn't seem threatened; in fact, it appeared merely curious. Dean found himself slightly awed by the majestic wildness of the beast and stood very still, not wanting the strangely profound moment to end. The wolf stopped about ten feet from them on Alex's side of the path and shuffled its feet in place for a moment, obviously wanting to but not daring to come closer. Eventually, its basic instinct took over and it trotted back to its rock, took one last look back at them, and disappeared silently into the trees beyond.

Dean let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That was cool," he breathed. "Kinda freaky, but cool."

Alex laughed. "He was just having a sniff. I will admit, he was braver than most though. Wolves are awesome creatures; they seem so solitary and regal. I love coming across them."

"You act like that happens all the time. Wolves usually run away, you know, long before people see them," Dean informed her.

"Not from me they don't," Alex winked at him. "Part of my supernatural charm, I guess."

"Animals take a liking to like you, huh?" What had just happened suddenly made a lot more sense. Animals were often able to sense ghosts or demons before humans ever saw them. Obviously the wolf had sensed whatever psychic mojo Alex had going on. It had definitely been staring at her and more wary of him. "So we're in luck if we run into a hungry cougar," he joked. "Good to know."

"Actually, that wouldn't be so lucky. Almost all dogs really like me, wolves falling into the dog category, but cats... not so much." The 'not so much' was said in a way to imply the complete opposite.

Dean raised his eyebrows, a 'should I be worried?' look on his face.

Alex laughed. "Don't worry, there are hardly any cougars in Indiana; we won't be running into one. Besides, even if we did, it won't be after _you_."

"Again, good to know," he grinned as they continued walking.

The tall trees blocked out the sun almost completely, prohibiting the undergrowth in the forest and making walking with no trail easier than expected. They came upon the stone circle suddenly, the thick tree cover giving way quickly to a sunny clearing about thirty feet in diameter. There were five stones in all and the grass in the circle appeared to be well-manicured and unnaturally green and plush. The stones were about eight feet tall each and were covered in strange markings Dean had never seen before. He let out a small whistle and entered the circle, spinning slowly to get a three hundred and sixty degree look at the impressive but eerie spot. After a full turn, he noticed Alex was still standing beyond the imaginary ring, a spooked look on her face.

"The portal's not open," he assured her. "I called Bobby last night to see what he had dug up. A human soul can only pass through the circle into Hell if a god or demon is there to steer it in the right direction _and_ if the right spell is recited. And Bobby knows his shit."

She looked skeptical. "When I was a kid, we visited Stonehenge," she told him, looking around warily but still not entering the circle. "It was massive, but it wasn't nearly this creepy. I really don't have a good feeling about this place."

Dean grinned, un-shouldering the bag of homemade explosive. "Well then, ready to make some noise?"

"Yeah, let's do this quick and get out of here," she nodded fervently.

Dean got to work, unpacking the explosives and laying them on the grass in the center of the circle as he started preparing them for igniting. He took one and carried it over to one of the stones, kneeling down at its base and scraping away at the dirt so he could lay it closer to the bottom of the stone. As Alex came over to join him, he chuckled to himself as he noticed she never stepped in past the stone.

"Sorry," she grinned sheepishly, realizing her reluctance to step within the imaginary boundary of the circle was showing. She had never had this sensation before about a place, not without some evil resident in it anyway. It was disconcerting. She looked around warily but everything was quiet and still in the surrounding trees.

"That's alright," he dismissed kindly. "GPS was your bit; I can take care of this part." Dean moved quickly and she was impressed by his professionalism and experience as he worked.

Then the feeling hit her like a ton of bricks. It wasn't just the place. She hadn't realized it at first, but it wasn't the circle at all, or the stones. It was him. Arawn. She felt him here, just like she had at the cemetery seconds before he had shown up. He had just been farther away but he was closer now. "Dean!" she cried in a warning whisper. "He's here!"

Dean looked up sharply, his eyes scanning the surrounding forest. "Who?"

"Arawn!" She was looking around wildly, not sure from which direction he would appear. She unslung the crossbow from her shoulder, handed it to Dean, and pulled her pistol out, clicking off the safety. Dean stood up and took the bow, having already readied his own silver-loaded .45. He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently but urgently towards the trees in the direction from which they had come. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the circle behind them as they passed the first stone they had come upon out of the woods.

"Where is he?" he demanded in a voice barely over a whisper. The situation was not good. He quickly ran their options through his mind, which had instantly kicked into its sharp hunter mode. They were in the middle of nowhere and he doubted they could outrun the beast, so maybe retreat wasn't the best option. If she could tell where he was, they would at least know from what direction the likely attack would come. The silver bullets had slowed it down in the past and he was fairly certain the evergreen arrows would work if he could manage to hit the target. He had abandoned the bag in the clearing in favour of a quick retreat, but he supposed the explosives wouldn't have done him any good at this point anyway.

Alex spared a long look backwards in an effort to get a visual on Arawn. "I don't know," she answered apologetically. "I just know he's here somewhere."

He blinked and it was behind her. Dean had no idea how the beast, or god, or whatever it was had appeared so quickly. There had been empty forest in front of them and suddenly he was staring at a seven-plus foot tall horned beast looming three feet ahead of Alex. "Look out!" he cried, aiming his gun straight at it.

The girl instinctively ducked out of the way of Dean's firing and spun around to see what he was aiming at but Dean never even got the chance to fire the weapon. With lightning speed, the creature knocked the .45 out of his hand and struck him hard, sending him flying into the nearest stone. With its other arm, it swung at the second intruder, hurdling her back ten feet through the air and into the base of a large oak tree.

Dean's head was spinning and his back hurt like hell where he had landed on the crossbow handle but nevertheless, he struggled to get up right away. He reached for the bow, pulling it out from underneath him. His vision had cleared just in time to see Alex hit the tree, gun still in hand. The sonofabitch moved quickly over to where she had landed. Kneeling on the ground, he cocked the bow quickly and was trying to load one of the evergreen arrows, cursing himself for the rookie move of not having kept it pre-loaded. The nut on the tiller had been dislodged slightly when he had fallen on it and wasn't catching the string, making the bow difficult to load. Another glance showed him Alex was on her back, the beast now towering over her. She swung her Rami towards it but it reacted too quickly, grabbing the gun from her hand with large, clawed fingers and tossing it into the trees. Dean was panicked that he wouldn't get the arrow loaded in time, thinking the beast was about to strike her again, but it hesitated, tilting its head sideways as it looked down at her.

Weaponless except for the wooden stake she was now trying to pull out of the inside pocket of her jacket, a million thoughts ran through Alex's head as she braced herself for Arawn to strike. She was kicking her feet, scrambling to get out from beneath the creature when it dawned on her it was standing still, just staring at her with an expression on its face that could best be described as curious. Not liking her odds at killing it with the Paolo Santo stake in close quarter combat, she opted for lying still. She could see Dean in moving her peripheral vision and found herself silently pleading for him to shoot it with the crossbow before it could decide she wasn't worth its interest and went back to trying to kill her.

After a few seconds that seemed more like minutes, Dean got the arrow loaded. Unfortunately, the beast must have been keeping tabs on him or heard the click of the bolt being cocked, because faster than he could raise the bow to take aim, it turned, took three giant steps towards him and delivered a sideways blow to his head, knocking him back into the stone. It clawed at the arm holding the bow, knocking it from his grip and tearing four long gashes in his shoulder with its black nails. It roared in anger and grabbed him by the neck, shoving him against the stone and lifting him off his feet like a rag doll as its grip tightened. Desperate, Dean kicked hard at the creature, but its fingers only tightened, its claws piercing into the back of his neck. He could smell its raunchy, hot breath on his face and could feel his own blood trickling down his chest and back as he tried to push against the stone behind him.

The creature arched backwards suddenly and screamed, its grip loosening slightly. Dean tried to kick the beast away from him in an effort to release himself from its grip, but to no avail. It did take one step back, however, enough for him to see Alex jumping back from her position right behind it.

_What the hell was she doing?_ He tried to yell at her to run but no words could get past the crushing fingers around his throat. She seemed to be doing just that for a moment as she turned and headed towards the trees, but she stopped a few paces away and stooped down to pick something up from the ground.

_The crossbow! Good girl!_ Dean thought as he lashed out with his feet again to keep the attention of the enraged God before him.

The weapon was still cocked and the arrow Dean had managed to load was still in place. Alex quickly released the safety and took aim carefully, not wanting to hit the hunter by mistake. The arrow left the bow with a barely audible _wheek_ and landed in the creature's side. Another scream erupted from its lips and it turned angrily towards Alex. This time it did release Dean, tossing him to the ground ten feet behind it. As the hunter scrambled to get to his feet, he looked over to see Alex had scampered a few feet away and was now holding his discarded .45, loaded with silver bullets. She started firing rapidly at Arawn, holding the gun with two hands, arms straight out in front of her.

The beast was suddenly running straight towards Dean, trying to escape the onslaught of silver bullets. He sidestepped quickly and noticed the wooden stake still protruding from the creature's back. It was Alex's Paolo Santo stake.

He rushed over to the blonde, who didn't stop firing until he reached her side. He took the gun and checked the clip quickly. About six silver bullets left, plus half a clip in his pocket. That may be enough to finish him off; it may just be a matter of quantity. "Get back to the river!" he ordered Alex before turning and heading after Arawn. "I'll catch up."

"What are you doing?" he heard her call after him as he scampered into the trees behind the beast. "Are you insane?"

"Go!" he yelled back without turning around. Maybe he was a bit crazy, yes, but if they didn't finish that thing off, they may never make it five miles back to the Impala before it recuperated and caught up with them.

Alex watched the hunter disappear into the woods after the creature, her heart still pounding and head still spinning with the adrenaline from the fight. Her first instinct was to follow, to stay together, but she thought better of it. The first few hunts she and Josh had taken on had taught her that when danger was near, Josh was more focused on watching out for her than watching his own hide. For that reason she didn't argue with him anymore, she got out of the way quickly if he gave her an order. Her brother constantly argued that in the thick of things was the only time she did anything he asked without kicking up a fuss, but she knew Dean was far better equipped to take this thing on than she would ever be so she obeyed him. He would be better off without having to worry about her.

Dean was starting to doubt the wisdom of his pursuit as he heard the beast getting farther and farther away from him. Damn! It couldn't be injured that badly if it could move this fast. He kept going for about a minute, until he saw the Paolo Santo stake lying in the leaves on the forest floor. A few feet farther he found the evergreen arrow, blood right up to the fletching. He paused to rethink his options, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees.

The evergreen hadn't worked. The Paolo Santo hadn't worked. And they already knew the silver didn't kill it, though it obviously stung a bit. Alex had emptied a dozen silver bullets into the creature, double what Josh had in the cemetery, but it was still moving fast_. How were they going to kill this thing?_ At least it was headed in the opposite direction, away from the river. If they ran, maybe it would take some time to lick its wounds and not pursue them. There was no point in blowing up the stones now anyway, as that would trap the creature here in this world. He made up his mind to catch up with Alex and turned around, running back the way he had come.

He caught up with her about a quarter mile from the river. She was standing still with the crossbow aimed at his head as he emerged suddenly from a screen of trees. "Whoa!" he stopped, raising his hands. "It's just me."

The relief was evident on her face as she let out her breath and dropped the bow. "Thank God," she grinned, "because I only have one arrow. The rest got broken."

"They didn't seem to work anyway," he reminded her as they moved on together, keeping a steady pace just shy of a run.

"No shit," she answered, glad she was no longer alone. "And dude, don't you ever watch the Discovery channel? Ever heard of the basic animal fight or flight instinct? You seriously need to work on the flight part of that!"

Dean snorted. "Look who's talking."

"I wasn't _chasing_ it!" she chided, taking her need to release her rush of adrenaline and fear out on Dean. "I mean, don't you have _any_ self preservation skills?"

"I figured I would try finishing it off while it was down," Dean explained between heavy breaths. "It healed pretty quickly at the cemetery and we've still got five miles to go on foot." His injured shoulder where the beast had scratched him was bothering him and he could feel a tingling sensation at the back of his neck.

"Oh. Shit, I never thought of that," Alex admitted. "Do you really think it'll double back and chase us?" She glanced over her shoulder at him as she spoke. He had his arm up and was feeling the back of his neck. The movement had opened his jacket at the front and she noticed the blood stains on his shoulder. "You're bleeding!" she gasped, slowing down. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he uttered his automatic response to the question Sam was asking him far too often these days. "Keep going."

But he wasn't fine. Something was definitely wrong. His wounds were bleeding, but not excessively. He hadn't lost enough blood to be feeling this weak, dizzy even. Alex did as he asked and they kept moving but she kept looking back at him. "I'm fine," he repeated, determined to keep running.

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the throbbing gashes and the light-headedness. He could hear a roar in the distance that he figured must be the river but couldn't discern if it was up ahead or to the side. He was getting disoriented and having a hard time focusing on the ground in front of him. "Are we going the right way?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah, can't you hear the river?" she answered, giving him a bewildered look. "Dean, you don't look good, you're sweating."

"We're running," he pointed out, attempting a sarcastic grin. "We need to reach the river. Keep moving."

Alex stopped, hands on her hips and breathing heavily. "You're slurring. You're not fine."

"I'll live," he said just as he tripped over a root and had to take three or four sideways steps and reach out and touch a tree to steady himself. Alex shook her head but set out again, this time at a slower pace. Dean struggled to keep up, struggled to keep his legs going and his vision clear. Finally, he staggered out into open air. They had reached the river. His legs gave way and he fell to his knees on the ground before he could stop running. Alex rushed over, dropping down next to him and pulling open his jacket.

"It's not that bad," he grunted, wincing as she pulled aside his t-shirt to get a view at the gashes on his shoulder.

"Well it looks bad," she disagreed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "You're hot. And not just exertion hot, you're seriously burning up."

"I feel like I'm freezing," he informed her, shaking his head in annoyance at his blurry vision.

"You've got four gashes here," she commented, "But they're all red and puffy and there are these red streaks from the ends. I don't get it. It looks like it's infected."

"Figures," Dean sighed, reaching for his inside jacket pocket. "Hey, that thing following us?"

"No, I don't think so," Alex glanced quickly back into the woods before returning her attention to Dean's wound. "And it doesn't figure," she continued, frowning. "It can't be infected, you just got it. It takes at least a day for an open wound to reach this state."

He groaned. "Not this type of cut." He managed to pull the flask he had been reaching for from his pocket. "Do me a favour, pour some of this over it."

"What, booze? That's gonna sting," she winced in empathy.

Dean grin was more of a grimace. "It's holy water," he corrected.

"Holy water?" She took the flask and unscrewed the cap. "Holy water is just ordinary water, it'll clean it a bit but it won't do much else."

"I've seen this before," Dean explained, pulling his feet out from under him so he was sitting on the ground. "Some things are so evil they're _physically_ evil." He tried to focus on what he was saying, not sure if he was making sense. "This bastard must be one of those things. They can infect you with their touch... the physical evil poisons you."

"Like when Frodo gets stabbed by the ring wraiths?"

Dean managed a weak chuckle. "Yeah, just like Frodo."

"Are you gonna turn into something nasty?" she asked, only half in jest. "Like with horns?"

"Naah," he replied through gritted teeth, trying to bear the pain. "It's not like a werewolf bite."

"That's good." She smiled at him though her eyes held more worry than mirth. "Cause it'd be a shame to all womankind to ruin your looks with horns."

Try as he might, Dean couldn't manage a smile in return.

"I guess the holy water kind of makes sense then," she continued, pouring some of the clear liquid onto the gashes carefully so as not to waste any. She wasn't prepared for the hunter's violent reaction.

Dean jerked backwards, his back slamming to the ground as he writhed, stifling a scream by clenching his jaw tight. His hands formed fists, knuckles white, and he fought the urge to knock the flask out of Alex's hand. Eyes wide, she pulled it back out of harm's way and put her hand on his chest in a helpless gesture of comfort.

After a few seconds, the pain subsided enough for Dean to think somewhat coherently. "The back of my neck too," he commanded, rolling over on his side to allow her access. He fought off tears as he felt the cool liquid hit his neck, followed by a searing pain that burned his insides right down to his feet. The utter agony and smell of burning flesh brought a flash of memory to the foreground right before unconsciousness claimed him. A glimpse of chains, of pain, of despair, and of death. A memory of Hell.

"Dean?" Alex croaked when his eyes closed and he fell still. She rolled him over onto his back and pressed two shaking fingers against the side of his neck. She was relieved to find a pulse, even though it was unusually fast. "Dean?" she repeated, tapping his cheek lightly. No response.

She looked around, trying to think what her best move was. They were out in the open, twenty feet from the noisy, rushing river and twenty feet from the tree line. She felt her jeans pocket for her phone; she would call Josh. It would take them a while, time she didn't know if Dean had or not, but he and Sam would come and get them. Maybe they could get a search a rescue helicopter. It wasn't an ideal option, especially considering the town Sheriff was the bad guy, but it may be Dean's only chance. Sam would surely know how to help his brother.

Suddenly she heard an angry shriek from the woods. Arawn. Her stomach lurched when she realized the God wasn't very far away. "Shit!" she cursed. "He's coming!" She needed to move Dean now. She gave him a somewhat rough shake. "Dean! Wake up!" she pleaded in an urgent whisper voice. "Dean! You have to get up! Please, I can't carry you. We need to move, now!" She would have to drag him, but to where? Another tap on the cheek achieved a small reaction from the now semi-conscious hunter, which came in the form of a groan. Encouraged, Alex slapped him harder, several times, calling his name.

Another groan and his hazel eyes flickered open, revealing a bewildered and confused look. "Dean!" she almost cried with relief. "He's coming! We need to move!"

A few seconds of concentration and the durable Winchester managed to force the bleariness from his thoughts. He looked around, awareness of the situation coming back to him in pieces.

_He was with the girl in the woods. That evil cloaked sucker had clawed him. That's right, she had poured holy water on his cuts. What was that noise? Oh yeah, the river. They were by the river. Damn, had he actually passed out? In front of the hot chick? What a pussy. What was she saying, he's coming? Who?_

"Freaking Frankenstein! Who do you think?" she answered him in an urgent, almost panicked voice. He hadn't realized he had asked that last question out loud.

Dean sat up like a lightning bolt, the urgency of the situation hitting him almost as hard as the dizziness from moving too quickly. He was burning up and freezing at the same time but struggled to get to his feet. He heard a scream, or more like a roar, from the woods behind them. Arawn was close. As he struggled to stand, Alex tucked her shoulder under his arm, took his hand, and pushed upwards. Once on his feet, they took a few shaky steps down the hill towards the Impala and safety. His legs were like jelly and he realized most of his weight was on Alex. They were never going to outrun Arawn this way. She may be fit, but she was slight - and a girl. She couldn't support his weight for long.

He stopped and pulled his arm back, straining to stay upright without her support. She turned to him, a confused look on his face. "Dean, we have to keep moving," she said apologetically, sorry for pushing him when he was so weak.

"We're not gonna outrun it," he said bluntly.

"We have to try," she replied, looking scared.

"_I'm_ not gonna outrun it," he clarified. "You need to go. Now." He spoke the words with the clear tone of an order. She had obeyed him at the circle; hopefully she would do the same now.

"I'm not leaving you here!" she cried indignantly. "He'll kill you!"

"I have this," he pulled open his shirt to reveal his .45 tucked in the waistband at his side. "I can hold it off."

"For what? For me to get away? Then what?"

She was not obeying like he had hoped. Damnit, why couldn't she just do as he said? Like his father, when Dean gave an order, he liked it to be followed. Dissention in the ranks could not be tolerated in the battlefield, a hard and fast John Winchester rule.

She was almost yelling now. "Then it kills you and I get to explain to your little brother that I left you here to save my own ass!"

"Look," he said sternly, "I'm dizzy, I'm gonna pass out any minute. Face it, you can't carry me. I'm taking this thing on either way. You don't have to." She had played the brother card - two could play at that game. "Imagine how Josh would feel if you died up here, ripped to shreds by some monster. How guilty is he gonna feel that he let you come with me? Please, just go. I can slow it down for you."

She put her hands on her hips and stood for a second, clearly debating what to do. She had dealt the first low blow by bringing up Sam; using guilt and family as this guy was now doing with her. But she wasn't going to leave him here to die. She trotted the few feet over to the edge of the steep banking of the river. It was about six feet almost straight down, but the river was really wild. "There has to be another way. Can we cross the river?"

"Take a look at that water. It's way too fast, we'd drown," Dean argued through broken breaths. "Listen, you need to go, _now_."

"Why don't you hide and I'll lead him away?" she suggested. "He didn't look like he was going to kill me earlier when he could have."

Dean did recall how the beast had looked as if it was going to strike her then had oddly held back, obviously sensing her mojo. "That was before you stuck him with a stake, an arrow and like a dozen silver bullets," he reminded her. They both turned as they heard the sounds of something big crashing through the woods. It would be there in less than a minute. It seemed to know exactly where they were.

"Fine, I'll go. But only if you hide down here!" Alex blurted, pointing to the river banking as her eyes scanned the woods behind Dean.

Exasperated but desperate to get her to run, Dean took a few unsteady steps forward to peer over the banking edge.

"Whatever you do," she said sharply in his ear, her fist wrapping tightly in his jacket collar, "Don't let go!"

"What?" was all he got out before she shoved him off the bank, taking advantage of his weakened state. She jumped with him, still gripping his jacket tightly. The cold of the water hit him like a sledgehammer as he felt himself go under.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Long chap, I know! Hopefully the ending was worth it :) Thanks for reading!_


	9. Little Sammy Doesn't Pick Up Chicks

**Chapter 9 -** _**Little Sammy Doesn't Pick Up Chicks**_

Having drained the Professor of useful information, Sam and Josh made their way back to the Bronco, both still limping noticeably. Josh nodded appreciatively to a couple of girls that passed them in the quad. "Ladies," he smiled. Both girls smiled back and gave the two hunters cheerful hellos, much to Josh's satisfaction.

Sam was beginning to think his temporary partner was always in a good mood for he was still smiling when he turned to the younger hunter as he started up the truck. "Lunch, bro?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam agreed. "Anywhere's good."

Naturally, Josh chose a bar. It was in Fort Wayne, a small city they passed through on the way back to Borne. Josh hesitated before going inside, debating bringing in his handgun, a Desert Eagle .50 caliber, and in the end, despite Sam's insistence he wouldn't need it, he slipped it in the back of his pants claiming it was better to be safe than sorry. After all, the Sheriff a couple of towns away was after Sam.

Over lunch, the two discussed ways to stop Arawn since it didn't look like destroying the stones was going to work but were unable to come up with anything plausible. Sam's mouth dropped open in disbelief when Josh actually gave the flirty waitress a playful slap on the backside.

"Oh my God," he breathed, shaking his head in embarrassment. "Tell me you didn't just do that."

"What?" Josh grinned defensively. "She was asking for it."

"You know, I had the wrong impression of you all together," Sam laughed. "The way your sister talks, I figured you for some kind of saint."

"Far from it," Josh snorted. "But that's siblings for you. They see no wrong. Just what they want to see. Yours included, by the way," he wagged a finger at Sam and took a swig of his beer. "After last night, I realized you weren't as cute and cuddly as Big Brother made you out to be."

"Why?" Sam asked curiously. "What did Dean say about me?"

"_Little Sammy doesn't watch porn_," Josh mimicked in Dean's deep voice and slight drawl. "_Little Sammy doesn't pick up chicks_, _Little Sammy doesn't like to give cops a hard time._" He took another drink of his beer. "I don't think he even sees that his 'Little Sammy' can shoot a man without even flinching."

"That man wasn't human, not anymore," Sam defended sharply.

"Hey, I'm with ya," Josh held his hands up. "That bastard was planning on killing my little sister. Little Sammy most certainly did the right thing. It's just, I think Dean is a little unwilling to come to terms with the fact that Little Sammy ain't so little anymore."

Sam was relieved. He didn't like the idea of Alex and Josh thinking he was some kind of cold-hearted killer. And Josh was probably right about Dean; his big brother did still see him as the doe-eyed little boy who was always asking too many questions and saving the moths that got trapped in the house. He just couldn't seem to shake the little brother thing with Dean. "He didn't really call me Little Sammy did he?" Sam cringed.

Josh laughed loudly. "No man, I embellished a little," he admitted, looking at Sam thoughtfully. "You're not much like your brother, are you?" he observed.

"Nobody's much like my brother," was Sam's snorted reply.

"Yeah, he's definitely an original cat. Hell of a wicked shot though."

As they ate their lunch, Sam started to understand why Dean had liked this guy so much. Alex had said her brother was the most likeable guy she knew. He wasn't sure he would go that far, but the man certainly had an easygoing charm about him. He was less cocky than Dean and definitely much bigger on the sharing and caring. They exchanged a few stories of Stanford, Josh clearly having enjoyed the whole college experience much more than Sam ever had. For Sam it had mostly been studying and trying to find some peace away from his family and the family business... and time with Jess.

"So if you were pre-law, you must have had Professor Trennam for Ethics in Law?" Josh laughed as he waved the waitress over for the bill. "Now that guy's pure evil."

Sam agreed wholeheartedly. "Oh, yeah, second year! I actually spilled holy water on him just to be sure."

"Frigging paranoid hunters," was the chuckled response.

They decided to give Alex and Dean a call before they left the bar, realizing belatedly they should give them a heads up about the futility of their mission, if the deed was not already done. When Alex's phone went straight to voicemail, Josh's demeanor changed instantly.

"No, no, not again," he said, shaking his head. "Try Dean's phone," he demanded, all traces of his usual smile gone.

When Sam was also directed straight to Dean's voicemail, Josh literally ran to the car to pull out his laptop. Sam threw money on the table to pay for the meal before following him outside. Josh quickly attempted to trace the GPS on both Alex's and Dean's cell phones with no luck.

"Let's get back there," Sam instructed, hopping in the passenger side. Josh didn't need to be told twice and within seconds they were back on the highway heading south, traveling well in excess of the speed limit.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Dean struggled to find the surface of the water. If he had been disoriented before, he was completely lost now. Shouldn't he float upwards? Why couldn't he find air? He felt a pull on his neck and remembered Alex was there with him. Somehow she hadn't released her grip on his jacket, and he felt her arm towing him what he thought was sideways. He must have been wrong though, for suddenly there was oxygen. He sucked in deep mouthfuls, arms still flailing, head still spinning. A few gulps was all he got though, for the strong current was hammering them as they were swept downriver and he felt himself dragged under again.

They tumbled over rocks, around rocks, and even into rocks as the water battered them incessantly. It was relentless, never easing up for a second, but they managed to stay together. Dean couldn't see or hear Alex but he could feel her unyielding grip on his collar, never letting go, though he knew she must be taking a beating also. Then it all went black, for how long he didn't know.

The next thing he was aware of was the pressure subsiding slightly, the battering of the rocks and water lessening. Maybe he just wasn't feeling it anymore. Maybe he had drowned... Only he could feel the tug on his jacket, stronger now than ever. When he discovered he could breathe, he struggled to open his eyes and focus through the dizziness. Everything was still spinning, but with intense concentration, he realized he was in shallow, unmoving water. His hands could feel the pebbles on the riverbed as he was dragged across them on his back. He could barely make out a voice - was that Sam?

"Shit, Dean, don't drown. I gotcha; we're almost there. Just hang on, don't drown on me. God, you're heavy. Just keep breathing."

It wasn't Sam, but just the thought of his brother seemed to wash a wave of lucidity over him and he tried to sit up. He was in an eddy, the raging river rushing by them just a few feet away. Alex was behind him, on her feet, trying to drag him by the coat to the grassy bank behind them. He raised his hand, stopping the pulling. "I'm okay," he coughed out, trying to get up.

"Thank God," came Alex's relieved reply as she helped him walk the last few steps to the shore, where he collapsed again, sitting down with a thud. "I thought I'd killed you."

Dean gave her a reproachful glance. "You almost did! What were you thinking?"

She looked apologetic. "Sorry. I remembered something. The lore said he couldn't leave the McCulloch property in his true form."

Still feeling the effects of the blood poisoning, Dean wasn't following. His forehead creased into a puzzled frown as he tried to clear his head.

"The river runs along the Western border of their property," Alex explained. "We're on the other side of it so we're not on their land anymore. I don't think he can follow us here. Not in his big horned monster form, anyway."

"We crossed the river?" Dean tried to keep up. He looked up at her raising one eyebrow. "You've got quite the grip for a little thing."

She shrugged and laughed. "What can I say? I grew up a California rag doll. Been there a few times."

Dean gave her another confused look. "Rag doll?"

She rolled her eyes, as if everyone should know what a rag doll is. "You know, surfer chick."

"Huh, you were surfers? That totally explains your brother." Dean resisted the urge to pass out again. Focusing on the conversation was helping him keep his wits about him. "As for your brilliant plan, why didn't you just say so?"

"We didn't have time. Besides," she narrowed her eyes accusingly, "you were being pigheaded."

"Was not." Dean argued, struggling against the heavy layers of soaking wet clothes to get up. Alex tucked herself under his arm again, taking as much of his weight as she could.

"Yes you were. Chivalrous and kinda heroic, but pigheaded all the same," she added more kindly.

Chivalrous. There was something he hadn't been called before. Heroic, yes. Pigheaded, all the time. But chivalrous?

Alex's eyes suddenly widened as she gasped and whipped around to reach for her pocket. She pulled out her phone and winced when she saw it was dead. "Oh shit. I didn't think. We're screwed."

Dean checked his also, finding it, too was completely soaked. He slipped out the battery quickly with clumsy, fumbling fingers, rung out his pocket area as best as he could, and shoved the phone parts back inside. "They may just need to dry out," he said encouragingly.

They made their way slowly downriver for a few minutes, both trying to think what their next move should be. Dean was getting weaker, if anything, relying more and more on Alex's shoulders. Though neither of them at this point wanted to admit it, they both knew they couldn't make it back down to the car.

"Didn't the holy water help?" Alex asked him finally.

Dean gritted his teeth, stalling his reply until the wave of agony that was burning through his body had subsided somewhat. "Maybe a little," he panted. "But this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

She didn't reply but he could feel her despair in her shoulders.

"You need to leave me here," he told her.

She groaned in exasperation. "Don't start that again. I'm not leaving you anywhere."

He didn't blame her; after all, he wouldn't have left her. But then again, he could have carried her down the hill. He desperately wanted her to leave, and for more than one reason. First, she still had enough daylight to make it back to the car where at least she would be safe. Secondly, he knew what was in store for him over the next few hours and didn't particularly want any witnesses around for it.

His father had been sliced by an Aitvaras once when Dean had been eleven. He had barged into their motel suite in the middle of the night, staggered over to the couch, and barked at a sleepy Dean to get the holy water. After ordering the boy to keep Sam in the bedroom where he couldn't see whatever was going to happen, he instructed his eldest son to pour the holy water over the wound. Dean had willed himself not to cry as his dad screamed and thrashed about in pain on the couch before passing out.

That had been the easy part. For the next few hours, Dean's seemingly invincible father mumbled gibberish and called out to people the boy couldn't see in the room. Dean hadn't understood most of what his dad had said in his delirium, but some of it had been painfully clear. John had called out to Mary several times, crying and at times begging her not to go, not to leave him. He had also mentioned Sammy's name several times, in what context Dean couldn't remember. But he had never mentioned Dean. For all his apparent despair, his father had never called out for him, the one person who would always be there for him, who had been there for him at that very moment. In later adulthood, Dean had almost managed to convince himself that had probably been a good thing. Still, the eleven year old had been deeply hurt by what he had perceived as a strange form of neglect.

If that was what Dean had in store for him on this day, he didn't want Alex to be there. He wasn't fond of people seeing him vulnerable, not even Sam. And if he suffered through whatever mental anguish his father had, he was terrified at the thought of someone seeing him so exposed. God only knows what he might say, what deeply kept secrets might spill out. He had so many...

On top of that, he may not live through it. After all, it had nearly killed John. He hated to think of Alex alone in the woods with his corpse and Arawn breathing down her neck.

His knees buckled as a wave of nausea hit him and she grunted as his entire weight bore on her slim shoulders. She lowered him down to his knees without letting him go. His head bobbed around for a second and she thought he was passing out again but with obvious strained effort, he pulled his eyes back into focus.

"Can you make it to the shack?" she asked him. "It can't be far from here."

_Shack?_ Dean wracked his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about. _The fishing shack. That's right, they had crossed the river. _He grunted his approval. She could leave him there if it made her feel better. He forced himself back to his feet and they kept moving. Alex kept glancing over the river, scanning the other side for any sign of the creature.

Within a few minutes, the river opened out into a deep pool that they had passed on the walk up and the shack came into view a hundred yards ahead of them. Alex pointed it out to Dean, who looked up, a bleary look in his bloodshot eyes.

"Sammy?" he croaked, staring at something up ahead. Sam was standing thirty feet away from them, at the edge of the trees. He hadn't noticed Dean and was talking to someone. Dean strained to see who it was and growled when she came into focus. It was Ruby, the blonde version she had inhabited before their run-in with Lillith. "Bitch!" he spat. She looked straight at him and smiled, a patronizing sneer of a smile. Gesturing for Sam to follow, she turned and walked into the woods, Sam following obediently behind her. "Sam!" Dean called after them, but his brother didn't seem to hear. "Sam!"

Alex figured Dean must be hallucinating, for he was staring into the trees and calling for Sam but there was nobody there. She assumed the 'bitch' comment hadn't been meant for her. Some old girlfriend maybe? Was this what he meant by 'get a lot worse before it gets better'? She helped him around some rocky terrain and tried to steady him as she opened the shack door and peered inside. It was small and dusty, but it would be dry. There was a woodstove in one corner and a couple of bunks on the opposite wall. No mattresses, but she didn't think that would make a difference to Dean at this point. She dragged him up the step at the door and was trying to guide him towards the bottom bunk when he jerked up straight, pushed her roughly behind him, and yanked the pistol out of his waistband. He pointed it at the empty bunk and fired rapidly. He got out four shots before the still-wet gun jammed.

"Dean!" Alex called, trying to snap him out of whatever hallucination he was having. "Dean!" He turned to face her, eyes wild, gun still raised. She put her hands up in an effort to calm him down, nervously eyeing the gun in his hands.

"Whoa, Dean, there's nobody there. It's just me, Alex. Please. Put the gun down."

Dean looked back towards the bunk. "It was Lillith," he said, shoulders relaxing slightly, gun lowering. "She was'ere," he slurred. "She wants to send me back. And Sam... she'll kill Sam. I can't let her take him from me."

Alex reached out slowly and took the gun from his hands, clicking the safety back on and laying it on the woodstove behind her. "It's the poison," she started to explain. "There was nobody…" She stopped speaking as he dropped to the floor like a brick, unconscious.

She stood still for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to relax herself. She looked at the hunter lying on the floor, pale and sweating. This was bad. This was really bad. When she had thought of the fishing shack, she had debated drying him off and leaving him there while she ran down the hill and got Josh and Sam. But with these hallucinations, he might just get himself killed. He probably wouldn't stay put. He definitely wouldn't be able to defend himself if Arawn showed up, whatever form the God came in. And the fever seemed to be getting worse.

She knelt down and put a hand to his forehead. He was burning up. His ragged breathing was coming in fast, shallow breaths.

She couldn't leave him. Not yet.

SPN-SPN-SPN

As they sped into Borne, Sam and Josh passed the Celtic Lodge and Cabins and Josh swerved into the parking lot, suggesting they take a quick look at their rooms before continuing on to the bridge where Dean had planned on leaving the Impala. He skidded to a halt in front of his room, jumping out of the car the very second it was thrown into park. Sam actually reached the door before Josh, stepping aside for the blond man to unlock and open the door.

The room looked exactly as they had left it with the exception of a vase on the table displaying a small bunch of fresh daisies and baby's breath. "What the hell are these?" Josh demanded, grabbing for the card nestled among the flowers. The card was addressed to Alex and he read it out loud.

_Age is just a number right?_  
_Your body is so out of sight  
Lets not play cat and mouse  
Come with me - lets play house  
And then you can look so fine  
Until the end of time_

He looked up at Sam, eyes wide and mouth agape. "Shit! The Sheriff? What a freakin' psycho!"

Sam burst out laughing, despite his worry. "Nah, man," he shook his head. "That's Brody."

Josh rolled his eyes, throwing the card back on the table. "Crap. You're probably right. Little perv. Everything else here is how we left it."

They checked the Winchesters' cabin also and found no evidence that anyone, including Dean, had been there since this morning. They drove the fifteen minutes to the bridge in less than ten and found the Impala still hidden in the trees. "Crap," Sam breathed.

"Well they probably wouldn't be back by now even if nothing's gone wrong," Josh said encouragingly, as much for his own benefit as for Sam's.

"If nothing had gone wrong, they'd be answering their phones," Sam argued, trying not to show how worried he was. "Dammit! I knew this was a bad idea. I should have gone with him."

"Well, gimp or no gimp, I'm up for a hike if you are," Josh said, opening the trunk of the Bronco to grab a heavier jacket.

"A bad knee isn't going to stop me from finding my brother," Sam agreed as Josh tossed him a hoodie to put on under his jacket for warmth, a flashlight, and his GPS. Though they were both determined and in a hurry, they decided to take the few minutes to try and hide the Bronco in the trees a few meters away from the Impala before setting off up the east bank of the river, following the route Dean and Alex had planned on taking.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean was so relieved to have finally found Sam. His brother was fine. Those days of worrying and panicking were over. If it hadn't been for Bobby, he probably would have lost his mind. But all that didn't matter, Sam was fine. He could see him coming towards him, smiling. Then there was this soldier kid behind him. "Sam, look out!" he shouted but he was too late. He watched as the soldier drove a knife into Sam's back, Sam's eyes widening in pain and shock as he fell to his knees.

"No!" he heard himself shout, running towards his little brother. He held him tight, falling to his knees and screaming his name, trying to will the kid to live. "I'm gonna take care of you, I'm gonna take care of you, alright?" he pleaded. With his arms wrapped around him, he felt the life slip out Sam. "No, no, no, no, no, no no. Oh, God no!" The thing that was the most precious to him in the world had just left him, and he himself died with it. Or at least he felt like he had. There was no imagining this level of pain and loss, no measure of the anguish he felt at that exact moment. "Sam!"

He bolted upright, confused by the sudden change in his surroundings. Sam was gone. He looked down at his left hand to find it was no longer covered in his brother's blood. He was sitting on a wooden bench - or was it a bed? - in a wooden cabin and there was a blonde girl staring at him from the other side of the room, a couple of thick sticks in her hand. His clothes were wet. So were hers. "Alex?" he said groggily, remembering bits and pieces of what had transpired.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said soothingly. "Sam's fine," she added, her voice full of sympathy. "You were just having a bad dream." He noticed she didn't come any closer and was eyeing him nervously.

Dean groaned, lying back down. Crap. He must have been calling for Sam in his delirium. He realized it had just been a memory but he had relived it so vividly. He still felt like he was burning alive, but the pain was the sharpest on his wounded shoulder. "Holy water," he whimpered, knowing that the wound needed another dousing if he was going to live.

"Again?" Alex's voice was shaky. Dean remembered how frightening it had been soaking his father's wound all those years ago and felt sorry to ask this of a virtual stranger.

He nodded, lying back down, his head resting on something soft and damp that he realized was her jacket. She turned and put the two cut branches she had been holding into the woodstove and he realized she had started the fire. "Is that wise?" he asked, thinking of attracting attention.

She shrugged as she came over, flask of holy water in her hands. "You're soaking. And your teeth were chattering. And there are no blankets. Our options were down to hide here in wet clothes and freeze, hide here naked but dry and freeze, or take our chances with the fire and be both dry and warm... and clothed," she added with a half-hearted smirk. She didn't mention that the smoke was far less likely to attract Arawn than Dean's screaming. She knelt on the bed next to him, pulling his t-shirt aside to reveal the gashes. Her alarmed gasp told him the wound was still infected.

"I'm offended," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. "You'd rather risk Arawn finding us than taking my clothes off?"

She blushed but didn't reply, an apologetic look on her face as she tipped the flask over the wound, letting the water trickle out. He clenched his teeth and tried his hardest not to scream as the water burned its way into the wound, the pain spreading once again through his body like wildfire. He managed not to pass out right away this time. "Have to keep it clean," he whispered through gritted teeth to Alex, who nodded her head in understanding. She had enough holy water for a couple more doses.

Dean soon fell back asleep, if one could call it that. Alex checked the phones one more time, praying by some miracle they would work already. She had taken the hunter's out of his pocket and laid it with hers on the small window ledge, hoping that would allow the parts to dry more quickly, but with no luck. She got to work drying out and cleaning Dean's gun, admiring its intricately carved handle. She regretted losing her Rami at the circle; she rarely carried a gun but that one had been a nice fit for her. She tossed the bullet that had misfired and counted two remaining. She fished again through Dean's pockets to find a spare clip fully loaded, half of those bullets being of the silver variety. If Arawn did show up, it may be enough to slow him down but it definitely wouldn't kill him. She had found a silver knife tucked in Dean's boot as she had struggled to get him on the bed and had slipped it into her own boot as a precaution. She didn't want him using it on her during one of his hallucinations.

She wondered what he was seeing as a moan escaped him. He had been out for a half hour the first time and, judging by his yelling, pleading, and even crying, he must have been imagining some pretty bad stuff happening to Sam. Even in the short time she had known these two, it was evident they were close, even if they weren't much alike. She supposed a life of violence and threat would naturally create a stronger family bond as it had with her and Josh. This guy may be hard core and bad-ass, but he sure did love his little brother.

She figured it was probably about four-thirty or five o'clock in the evening by now. It would be dark within a couple of hours and Dean wasn't going to get better by then. She hadn't really planned on spending the night in the shack, but at this point didn't know what else to do. She couldn't leave him now any more than she could have when they first got here. She was going to have to put the fire out by nightfall. It had been risky in the daylight, but at night she knew Arawn could leave McCulloch land. In whatever disguise, it would still be him.

She thought of her brother and her heart lurched. He would be getting really worried right about now. He must have tried to call already. And after what had happened yesterday, he would be beside himself. "Poor Josh," she whispered to herself, feeling guilty.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_


	10. Like Fate, Destiny, All that Crap

**Chapter 10 – Like Fate... Destiny... All That Crap**

"Sic 'em boys." Ruby's face spouting Lilith's words grinned at him as she opened the door. The huge, savage Hellhounds charged into the room, gunning right for him. He couldn't help but scream as the pain shot through him, his flesh being torn apart. All he could see was the Hellhounds on top of him, fangs dripping with his blood. He had a brief but terrifying thought of leaving Sam alone in the room with Lillith, then more searing pain, then nothing...

Then things only got worse. Much, much worse.

SPN-SPN-SPN

As dusk fell, Alex checked Dean's clothes. He was relatively dry. Dry enough that hypothermia wouldn't kill him off if he managed to survive the poisoning. Luckily it was warm for mid-October. She checked the phones for the tenth time and reluctantly put out the fire. With the last bit of light coming through the small window, she emptied the flask of holy water on his shoulder and neck, closing her eyes and clenching her jaw as the man screamed in agony once more.

"Sorry," she whispered, doubting he could hear her. He had only been lucid for a few moments in the last hour and a half. He seemed to be getting worse and she didn't have a clue how to help him. She sat down on the floor next to the bunk and hesitantly took his hand in a comforting gesture. She probably wouldn't have done so had he been awake since offering comfort so openly really wasn't her M.O. - that was definitely more her brother's thing. But until now she had never seen someone suffering as much agony and anguish as this man obviously was. Besides, she was fairly certain he wouldn't remember it.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he was quiet and seemed to almost be sleeping peacefully, then a scream or a gut-wrenching plea would escape him. Often he thrashed about and once he got up and attacked some invisible foe in the far corner, cutting his hand on the woodstove in the process. She had managed to get him to lie back down and bandaged it as best as she could in the dark with only his zippo for light. Facing the door, Dean's gun within quick reach on the floor behind her, she braced herself for a long, dark, lonely night.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Sam walked as quickly as he could, ignoring the throbbing in his knee. He could tell Josh was doing the same with his hurt ankle, neither of them wanting to be reason they arrived too late to save Dean or Alex from any of the numerous horrific fates they were both surely imagining. Sam kept checking his GPS, taking extra care not to get lost as twilight had come and gone and the only light remaining was that from the moon overhead. Walking up the riverside, they were free from tree cover and the lack of clouds allowed the moonlight to provide sufficient light to keep the stumbling to a minimum.

Another glance at the instrument in his hands told him were about half a mile away from the spot where they would have to turn into the trees. Once in the forest, the going would be much more difficult, even with the help of the flashlights. Dean could be lying hurt in the woods five feet from their path and they could easily walk right by him in the dark. Sam shivered, trying to wipe the thought from his mind. Dean would be okay, he had to be. He didn't survive four months in Hell to die in some forest in Indiana. Dean was the toughest guy he knew, tougher even that his father had been. He would be fine.

But Sam couldn't deny seeing a vulnerability in Dean since his time in the pit that he had not noticed before. Maybe it had been there all along and in Sam's perpetual self-pity and resentment, he just hadn't noticed it. Or maybe some part of Dean had been broken in Hell; maybe his brother wasn't as invincible as Sam had always wanted to believe. Dean had been hurt and guilt-ridden after John Winchester had given his soul for his son's life. Dean had always put everybody else before him, lacking any significant measure of self worth, but the self-hatred and self-punishment had worsened since his time downstairs. The nightmares were still happening, some nights worse than others, and the drinking was becoming a serious problem. As always though, he refused to talk to Sam about it, claiming he didn't remember anything. Whether or not this was true, Sam felt his brother was avoiding dealing with the experience.

"Hey Josh?" he spoke, breaking almost an hour of silence between them. "You took Psychology, huh?"

"Yeah," Josh replied hesitantly, wariness in his voice. "Criminal Psychology," he elaborated.

"What do you know about post-traumatic stress disorder?" Sam blurted, throwing the question out there. Dean would probably kill him for it later, but he needed to talk to someone about how to help his brother.

"PTSD?" Josh kept walking, not turning around. "In what sense?"

"Say someone goes through some horrific, traumatic experience. Can they block all those memories out and really not remember anything?"

"Well, I'm not a psychiatrist," Josh warned, "but yeah, the mind can block certain experiences if it isn't ready to deal with them yet. It does happen."

"So, the memories will come back eventually?"

"Sometimes, sometimes not." Josh wasn't being particularly helpful.

"What about in dreams or nightmares?" Sam pressed.

"You mean can someone dream about the traumatic experiences they've blocked out?" The older man's face scrunched up in obvious effort to remember what he had learned in school. "I think so."

"Is it better for the person to remember so they can deal with it or is it better that they never regain the memory?" Sam asked. "And what will trigger them to remember?"

Josh breathed out slowly. "You're laying out some serious questions I don't really didn't feel qualified to answer," he admitted. "I guess it depends. If the person is dreaming about the event, chances are they do remember bits, or likely will in the near future. There doesn't have to be a trigger to bring the memories back, it could just happen when they're ready to deal."

"And how do you go about helping someone deal with experiences if they don't remember them except in dreams and if they won't talk about them?" Sam knew it was painfully obvious who he was talking about but he needed an objective opinion and he needed some direction on how to help Dean. Bobby kept telling him not to push, that Dean would talk when he was ready, but Dean could be a full blown alcoholic by then, or worse, dead because he got sloppy or drunk on a hunt. And Sam knew Dean may never talk. Occasionally, he would surprise the heck out of his little brother by coming clean about something he had been bottling up at a moment when Sam least expected it, but most things he kept inside.

"Like I said, Sam, I'm not a Psychiatrist," Josh said carefully. "But I would say don't push him. You can't force someone to share their feelings; you just have to try and make it comfortable for them to do so that when they are ready, they will. You know, Lex tends to keep feelings bottled up. Me, on the other hand, I feel better if I talk about what's bothering me. So on occasion if I'm going all extra emo about my feelings, she sometimes gives up a little of her own. Just keep opening that door, and eventually, you get some feedback. If you try to squeeze it out of him, what you get won't be the real thing."

They both realized they had dropped the pretense of talking in the hypothetical.

Sam listened intently. What Josh was saying made sense, pressuring Dean to open up never did get him anywhere. But it still didn't help Sam figure out what to do for Dean now. It could be months or years before Dean talked about what he was feeling. Dean saw conversations about his own emotional issues as a sign of weakness. Whatever angst he felt, he probably thought he deserved it and wasn't worthy of any help dealing with it.

Deep in thought, neither San nor Josh noticed the small, unlit, fishing shack nestled in the trees across the river as they walked on in silence.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Sam was laughing. A maniacal, purely evil laugh. He stopped to look over at Dean, whom he had pinned against the wall with his powers. His eyes flashed yellow as he grinned viciously at his big brother.

"You're so pathetic, Dean. Did you really think a pansy-ass spell like that would hold someone like me?"

Bobby lay in a crumpled heap on the floor in front of Sam. Dean struggled against the invisible bonds holding him in place. "Sam," he pleaded, "This isn't you. You can fight this."

Another loud laugh. "Oh, but this is me. This has always been me, Dean," he announced, holding his hands up in the air for effect. "Dad saw it coming. Gordon saw it coming. Hell, I think even Bobby here saw it coming. You were just too pathetic and needy to see it yourself." He paced in front of Dean, reveling in his hold over the older brother. "You should join me, Dean," he offered with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "We can live like kings. No demon will touch you if I order them not to. And trust me," he grinned viciously, "You can score all the chicks you want being the boss' brother."

"No," Dean found himself almost whimpering. "Please, Sammy. You know this isn't right."

Sam's face darkened and he grew angry. "Right? This isn't right? Dean, all our lives we fought all kinds of things and we saved a ton of people. And what did we get for it?" He threw his hands in the air. "Arrested! Hunted! Killed! You more than once!" He brought his face in close to his brother's. "You tell me what's right about that? No. This," he gestured with both hands to the room around them, "This is what's right. I can lead these demons, I can control them. With my power, it doesn't have to be a slaughterhouse. I'm actually saving people, Dean. With me in charge, we can all live here in relative peace. Us and humans."

"Listen to yourself!" Dean yelled at him. "You're referring to yourself and the demons as us! You're not a demon, Sam!"

Sam was getting frustrated with the conversation. With a flick of his hand, he sent Dean flying across the room, slamming him into the opposite wall. Dean picked himself up with a grunt only to be quickly forced flat against the wall again. Sam strolled leisurely over to stand directly in front of him, pulling something out of his jacket. It was Ruby's knife. He held it up for Dean to see.

"You want this?" he goaded. "Now, I'm hurt Dean, would you actually use it to kill your own brother? After all those years of looking out for me?" He turned the knife in his hand, gripping the handle tight, and with a flicker of anger crossing his face, he thrust it through Dean's shoulder, pinning him to the wall with it. Dean yelled out, the physical pain at that moment almost equaling the emotional. Sam chuckled, took a long look at him, and then walked out of the room. "I'll see ya later Dean!" he called over his shoulder.

"Sam!" He shouted after him. "Sammy!" But he was alone. He struggled to get the knife out but it was embedded into the wall behind him too deeply. The room was silent and he closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sight of Bobby lying so still on the floor but finding equally disturbing visions behind his closed lids. He reached for his shoulder, feeling blood trickling from the wound. He began to feel lightheaded and slowly the image of Sam's yellow eyes left him, bringing darkness.

SPN-SPN-SPN

They found the circle exactly as Dean and Alex had left it. The bag of unused explosives was sitting open in the center, a couple set in place at the bases of two of the stones. What appeared to be all or most of the stash of evergreen arrows were on the ground just outside the circle, all broken. By the light of the handheld flashlights, they could see no other signs of a struggle or a fight; they could see no blood. In the darkness and with the ground being dry, they had only spotted a couple of footprints on the way in, both of which appeared to be Dean's. They had decided to risk shouting for the missing pair, in hopes they were hiding nearby.

No reply came. They kept shouting and scouring the woods nearby for any signs of their siblings - dead or alive - but came up with nothing. Discouraged, the decision was made to search the librarian's house, the barn, and the Sheriff's house so they headed back down towards the cars in relative silence, each consumed with the fear of what might have happened to their missing loved one and each afraid to admit they were imagining the worst.

A hundred different scenarios had crossed Sam's mind in the past hour and a half. Obviously, Dean had not finished setting the explosives, which meant he and Alex had been interrupted. He could only hope it was by the Sheriff and not Arawn himself. He silently prayed that he and Josh would find Alex and Dean locked safely in the barn cellar, waiting for Arawn to finish his quota of revenge kills. Surely if Arawn had shown up, Alex's psychic sense thing would have warned them, he tried to convince himself. They would have left what they were doing and run away. Maybe they were just hiding out somewhere in the woods, waiting for the beast to leave so they could slip back to the car in safety. Perhaps he and Josh would find them waiting at the car.

He found his thoughts circling Alex's demon radar. He had psychic abilities himself, a result of the visit Yellow Eyes made to his nursery on that fateful night twenty-five years ago that had changed the lives of the Winchesters forever. He had known exactly what the demon had done to him for well over a year now even though he had never brought himself to tell Dean. His brother was bothered enough by the visions he used to get and his new powers; he couldn't possibly accept the truth of the origin of the powers... that Yellow Eyes had bled drops of blood into his mouth - that Sam had demon blood in him, coursing through his veins, tainting him. Some might even say he was part demon. Actually, some already had. Sam shuddered at the thought of Gordon hunting him like any other monster. He wondered how had Alex come about her ability.

"Has Alex always been able to sense ghosts and demons or did that start more recently?" he asked, slightly out of breath from the pace they were setting.

Josh replied between fast breaths also, not slowing down. "She's always had it. Since she was little, anyway. Why?"

"No reason," Sam answered. "Just curious. How do you think she got it? Why her, I mean?"

"I don't know," Josh admitted. "Why do some kids get Leukemia? What makes one person the lucky sonofabitch to win the lottery and the next guy the poor schmuck who dies in a car accident the day before his wedding?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Shit happens."

"So you don't think there's any reason she specifically ended up with the ability to sniff out evil? You don't think it's linked to the demon that's after her?" Sam asked.

Josh stopped for a second and turned to look at Sam, shifting his weight off his hurt ankle as he did so. "You mean like fate? Destiny? All that crap?"

Sam shrugged. He wasn't sure what he meant.

Josh straightened up. "My sister wasn't blessed with her extra sense as protection against Red-Eyes," he scoffed. "Red-Eyes goes after her _because_ of her ability. That's what singles her out to him from the rest of us. I think he gets more enjoyment out of her pain because of the psychic link. There's no grand scheme or ultimate destiny that dictates she has to go through all this crap for some divine reason. She didn't do anything to deserve that curse. She's just unlucky. Like I said, shit happens."

They kept on moving. After another minute, Sam ventured another question. "Doesn't Alex's psychic thing scare you?"

"In what way?" Josh stifled a chuckle at the constant stream of questions. This guy obviously didn't get to talk much about stuff that was bothering him. Granted, Dean didn't seem big on the sharing of feelings and all, but Josh had figured there must have been some other family or friends around to talk to. Maybe he had figured wrong.

"Well," Sam hesitated, not sure how to approach this question either without offending Alex's doting older brother. "I mean, you don't really know where it comes from, but she senses evil, so it's somehow tied in to some bad shit. Don't you ever worry it will, uhhh, develop, or evolve, into something more?"

Josh got the impression Sam was looking for reassurance of some sort but he had no idea of what. "She senses evil, she isn't evil," he warned. "Don't confuse the two. There isn't a shred of evil in my sister, so if you're thinking there is, or could be, you need to stop right there."

"No, of course not," Sam said quickly.

"I know her better than she knows herself," Josh continued, determined to make a point. "She's as good as they come, all the way through. She is who she is, with or without her extra sense. It doesn't govern any part of who she is at the core."

It occurred to Sam that Dean said something very similar about him whenever their father's dying warning was mentioned and Sam's fear of becoming something evil was voiced.

"She's not about to go evil or darkside or anything of the sort," Josh finished, as if reading Sam's mind.

"I never thought she would," Sam reassured, worried he had crossed the line. "I just thought that it must be scary for both of you, her having this power that you don't understand."

_Of course Alex wasn't about to go evil, she didn't have demon blood in her. Not like he did. _

SPN-SPN-SPN

_**TBC...**_


	11. Hell of a First Date

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

**Chapter 11 - Hell of a First Date **

Sitting in the darkness of the shack expecting Arawn to barge through the door at any second was frightening. Watching the delirious hunter going through whatever he was going through was absolutely terrifying. Dean whispered his brother's name a few times and reached for his wounded shoulder. He was breathing quick and shallow breaths and was sweating despite the coolness of the night. The fear and pain in his voice was heart-wrenching, but to Alex's relief, he was no longer screaming. She sighed and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. He was still burning up and she had used the last of the holy water hours ago. She pulled his t-shirt aside to take a look at the gashes on his shoulder, using his zippo again for a light and noting the swelling and the redness weren't getting any worse. At least that was a good sign.

"Hey, Dean, your shoulder's looking better." She figured he probably couldn't hear her but it made her feel less alone to speak out loud. She smiled at him and reached to pat his cheek but jerked her hand back when the moonlight was reflected in lines of tears on his face. She suddenly couldn't decide which was worse, hearing him scream or seeing him cry. She doubted this guy did much of either and realized she had only ever once before felt so utterly helpless. This must be how Josh would feel after the many times she had been hurt by Red-Eyes. She thought of the pained look he would always have on his face while he sat by her bedside as she recovered. He used to sing to her for comfort, even as she slept. She had always found it soothing, even when she was groggy with medication. Maybe it had been the familiarity of his voice, remembrance of his singing around the campfires on the beach during their younger days in California. Whatever it was, it always brought her comfort. Maybe it would work for Dean. She didn't know if he could hear her, but she was fairly confident he wouldn't remember in the morning anyway.

She took Dean's hand again in the dark and started quietly singing CCR's _Proud Mary_, praying Dean would pull through this and not die here in an old fishing shack in Indiana without his brother around to comfort him.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean screamed as the chains ripped at his flesh once again. Had his body been real, he would have died a hundred painful deaths by now, but the mere physical manifestation of his soul that existed in hell just kept on living. It kept on feeling the agony, the burning, the stabbing pains of the chains and various other weapons the relentless demons around him were gleefully torturing him with. The smell of his burning flesh was real, there just always seemed to be more to burn.

Then there was the unrelenting taunting, the cruel goading the demons couldn't seem to help spitting out at him. About how they had heard Sam had died a slow, painful death, screaming and pleading for Dean to help him or how Lillith had sent him down here also and he was currently enjoying the same hospitality. Some would jeer that Sam was turning demon, his every thought one of hatred and vengeance for the death of his big brother. Others would laugh that Dean had traded his soul for nothing, that Sam was living it up upstairs, his brother already forgotten. Then one of them would slice his chest open, hooting with laughter as his screams filled the stale air.

He couldn't die, he couldn't even pass out. He tried to push his mind far away but the sudden jolts of intense pain kept bringing him back to the moment, an eternity of moments to go. There was nothing to grab onto, no way to escape. But then he heard something different, something that didn't belong here in Hell. It was a voice, female, singing quietly in the distance. Singing what sounded like Lynyrd Skynyrd's _Free Bird_. Strange delusion, but oddly comforting. He focused on the song, trying his best to shut out the demons and the agony they were savagely inflicting on his tired and beaten soul.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

A quick search of the barn turned up nothing, as did that of the librarian's house. Sam and Josh moved on to the main house on the McCulloch property that belonging to the current Sheriff. They pulled off the road into the trees a hundred feet from the driveway. Sam stuffed his fully loaded Glock 9mm in the back of his pants and Josh did the same with his Desert Eagle. They crept up the long driveway, staying hidden in the trees. There was only one car in the driveway, a silver Volkswagen Jetta. Josh snorted quietly.

"Figures, foreign piece of crap," he joked, realizing from Sam's blank look that the 'buying American' topic was completely lost on him, at least as it pertained to cars. He shook his head in amusement at how different the Winchester brothers were from one another and kept moving up the driveway. A couple of lights were on in the house despite the late hour, indicating that perhaps someone was home.

They decided on a side door where there were no lights and Sam made quick work of picking the lock, getting an impressed eyebrow raise from Josh for his efforts. Once inside, they split up, Sam taking the main level while Josh went upstairs, keeping close to the wall to lessen the chance of the old timber treads squeaking.

The house was large and the search took some time. Both men explored their entire floor but found nothing. There didn't appear to be anybody home. Josh came back down to join Sam as the youngest Winchester tried the door handle on one last door off the kitchen. The door opened with a small squeak escaping from its hinges. Both men winced and froze for a second, straining to hear if the noise had alerted anybody to their presence. Nothing. Since the room beyond was in total darkness, Sam aimed his flashlight through the doorway to find stone stairs leading downwards.

The basement. Perfect, he thought, feeling optimistic. Had Dean been here, the older brother would have certainly quipped that illegal or evil activity _always_ took place in the basement.

The basement was unfinished with a stone floor and dusty old furniture piled around the edges of the big room. They saw nothing of interest but Sam stopped short at a shelf unit on the far wall, raising his hand sharply towards Josh to indicate he may have found something. Josh came over, being careful not to make any noise as Sam had put his finger to his lips and was pressing his ear up to the back of the shelves. Josh flicked off his flashlight and Sam followed suit. A tiny ray of light was appearing from under the unit, and they both heard a distinct rustling noise from behind it. Upon further inspection, they found hinges on the back right hand edge of the wooden unit.

Josh pressed his back to the wall on the left side of the unit, holding his gun in two hands up in front of his face and nodding to Sam. Understanding the silent instructions from years of working with Dean, Sam quickly followed suit right behind Josh. Josh silently nodded his count and on three, yanked sharply at the bookcase. As expected, it swung open with a loud bang and the two hunters jumped through the opening, guns pointing forward, ready to shoot. Sam couldn't help but think for a moment how much Dean enjoyed these adrenaline rush moments and chuckled at how much Josh looked like one of those FBI agents on the procedural cop shows Dean pretended to hate so much.

The room was dimly lit with a lantern sitting on a table near the center. There was a startled scream as they entered and the librarian jumped to her feet from where she had been sitting at the table, spinning around at the noise behind her. She froze when she saw two guns pointed at her. There was nobody else in the room, just a couple of shelves holding books and various odd boxes, with a large woven map of Old Scotland on the far wall.

Her eyes narrowed with recognition within a few seconds as she got a look at Sam's face. "You!" she spat.

"Yeah, me," Sam barked back, remembering with a shudder that he had almost become this old bat's husband.

"I figured you would have left town," she hissed. "You do know the Sheriff is after you. What with your record and all, _Sam Winchester_. You look surprisingly good for someone who was supposed to have died over six months ago."

She made a point of saying his real name. Obviously his fingerprints had given him away.

"I doubt the Sheriff wants to bring him in," Josh spoke up. "All that publicity. Seems you and your father have a few secrets of your own, _Mary_."

She turned her attention to the blond man, a look of surprise at how much these two hunters had figured out peering through the obvious fear. She smiled, amusement spreading across her face. "Well, you must be Joshua Driscoll," she goaded. "We may still have use for you and your lovely sister, though unfortunately you'll have to give what you've got to Uncle Dougie, since I hardly think it would be appropriate for Hamish to get you if I'm going to be getting Alexis," she laughed.

Josh curled his lip in disgust. "Lady, you're one sick bitch."

"Nobody is going to give up anything for you and your family anymore," Sam told her sternly. "You're all going to Hell, where you should have been two hundred years ago. Where are Dean and Alex?"

Sam noticed the flicker of confusion that crossed the librarian's face at the mention of Dean and Alex and realized she didn't know where they were. She clearly had no intention of admitting that, however, for she quickly covered and decided to seize the opportunity to play hardball instead. "They're dead," she smiled viciously.

Sam wasn't falling for it. "Where's Darius?"

The librarian's confidence wavered as she took in Sam's sharp tone. "He's rounding up some new hosts, since you turned out to be unusable and that degenerate criminal brother of yours killed Dougie as well," she growled, obviously having misread the scene in the barn and having assumed Dean had shot her uncle. "He'll be back any second now," she warned, stepping behind the table towards the back of the room, away from the two guns still pointing at her. "And you'll never stop him," she goaded. "My father will wipe the floor with you two louts."

Sam almost shot her then and there to shut her up. They would have to kill her anyway; it may as well be now. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, not without a more immediate danger as an excuse... not with Josh there, watching. He remembered the comments made by the less hardened hunter over lunch and was wary about how the Winchesters would be perceived. He liked these two, Josh and Alex, and for some reason, needed them to think he was a good person, not a ruthless killer like Gordon. He silently wished she would lunge at him and give him the excuse he needed or that Josh would just freaking shoot her and solve the dilemma. Sam felt fully justified in shooting both the librarian and the Sheriff, human or not. Of that he had no doubts. It was just, for some reason, a part of him felt like he _should have_ doubts. Like the doubts he would have had if this had happened three years ago.

The librarian suddenly flipped the far edge of the table up, sending the table into the air a few feet and towards Sam and Josh. Both hunters stepped back to avoid it and by the time their guns were up again, she had disappeared out of an opening on the far wall that hadn't been there seconds before.

"Damnit!" Sam had forgotten how strong these bastards were. The woven map swung back down in place, covering the opening as Sam and Josh raced towards it after her. Behind it there was another set of stairs and another bookcase slammed shut at the top. She must have locked it somehow because it wouldn't open, no matter how hard Sam shouldered it. He heard the car start up in front of the house and gave up. He came back down the stairs into the room, where Josh was already sifting through the books and boxes on the shelves.

"We'd better leave soon," Sam warned. "Darius could be here anytime, she's no doubt warning him right now."

"Yeah," Josh agreed distractedly, flipping through the pages of the book she had been reading on the table. "Hey Sam," his brows furrowed. "Check this out." He turned the book around and pushed it across the table to where Sam stood. The book appeared to be extremely old, its thick, yellow pages worn and faded. The pages were hand written in black ink with what appeared to be Gaelic text. "The pictures," Josh gestured.

Sam let out a low whistle as he glanced at the picture on the following page, understanding what Josh was suggesting. It was a drawing of five stones set in a circle in the woods with a figure that looked very much like Arawn standing in the center. He held out a severed head in each clawed hand, heads surrounded by a light, their faces stricken with fear. Sam thought these must be souls about to be dragged to Hell by the god. He recognized a few words from the text on the adjacent page. "_Dia_," he read out loud. "I think that's the Gaelic word for God." He scanned the rest of the page. "I don't know much Gaelic," he admitted, "but _carragh_ means rock or pillar, _cearcall_ is circle, _aicheamhail_ means revenge, and I think this word, _anam_, has something to do with a soul or spirit." He continued flipping through the pages and looked up at Josh. "I think this is the book of spells, probably the ones that lock and unlock the portal!" he cried excitedly, not believing their luck.

Josh was already flipping through the rest of the items on the shelves. He had grabbed another book and held it tucked under his arm when he turned back to Sam. "Still doesn't mean a thing if we don't find Lexie," he pointed out. "And Dean," he added solemnly.

Sam nodded in agreement and quickly helped check the rest of the room for interesting or useful items but with no luck. The remaining books seemed to be the business affairs of the family over the years through the numerous identities and the rest appeared to be family trinkets; an old doll, a few old carvings. They decided to leave while the coast was still clear, taking the two books of interest with them.

As they headed back down the driveway, Josh gave Sam an encouraging pat on the back. "Guess you're off the old chopping block, bro!"

Sam huffed, a small laugh escaping. "They still want me dead," he reminded him.

"Yeah, well, dead has got to be better than the alternative," Josh offered. "Can you imagine roasting in Hell?" he shuddered. "Sounds nasty. No way is that happening to anyone on my watch."

A stab of guilt shot through Sam upon hearing Josh's well-intended words. Dean went to Hell on Sam's watch.

Josh continued, oblivious. "If the Sheriff brings back three people from God knows where, we're going to have to keep a look out and make sure we get them out of there before that horned psycho drags them through the portal." Sam quietly nodded his agreement, a now familiar knot of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It would be dawn soon. At least, that was her guess as neither phone nor Dean's watch was working. Dean had been fairly quiet the last half hour, his breathing having evened out to a slower, steadier rhythm. She was still singing quietly, as much for her own comfort at this point as his. She hated being alone at night, especially in the dark. That particular fear had stemmed from her childhood, when she used to dread the moment the family would all go to bed, leaving her alone praying that her very real nightmare wouldn't show up that night. In junior high she had taken to sneaking into Josh's room after everyone had gone to bed and curling up under a blanket on his rug. He had never embarrassed or teased her about it and had never complained or even questioned the odd ritual. Seldom alone, Red-Eyes had not bothered her much for a couple of years and they were among the happiest of her life. Josh let her go pretty much everywhere he went and she spent most of her free time hanging out at the beach with him, Tag, and Beacon, his two best friends from high school.

Then Josh and Tag had gone off to Stanford and time alone couldn't be avoided, especially at night, and her nightmare had returned with a vengeance. Though it had lessened during the past few years on the run with her brother, being alone still terrified her. Singing and speaking quietly to Dean between songs made her feel less alone in the nighttime quiet of the remote fishing shack.

"Dean, you'd better wake up soon because I'm running out of songs I know the words to," she told him, still holding his hand. She was sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the bunk in which he lay sleeping and she twisted around to take a quick look at his face while she spoke to him. He was still and looked relaxed, his good-looking features visible even in the dim light. "I've got a couple more classic rock songs and then I'm gonna have to move on to U2 or Coldplay. Somehow I doubt you'll be able to appreciate them." With the expectation of sunrise and Dean's current peaceful expression, she began to feel a little more optimistic and started singing Nazareth's _This flight Tonight_.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Dean awoke without moving, his mind drifting gently from the nothingness of a brief and welcomed dreamless sleep to increasing awareness. He could hear quiet, peaceful singing and remembered the small comfort the same voice had brought him not long before in the depths of Hell. He remembered his wounds from Arawn and realized the more recent visit to the pit must have just been a dream brought on by the delirium. Good, that meant the other things had been delusions also. He opened his eyes and let them adjust, slowly taking in his surroundings. He was in the fishing shack, the first hint of dawn's light peeping in the small window. He turned his head to see the back of Alex's hair and became aware she was holding his hand over her shoulder and quietly singing _Sunshine_ by Nazareth.

"Are you singing me love songs?" he croaked. She jumped with a startled gasp, jerking her hand out of his and turning to face him. A cocky grin spread across his face when he realized she was beginning to blush.

"You're awake!" She looked hugely relieved, even if a tiny bit flustered. "And in that song they're singing about drugs," she added defensively.

He managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, yeah. That's what all the hard core bands say so their fans don't think they're selling out by writing a ballad just to get radio play." He sat up, head still dizzy. "That is _definitely_ a love song."

She flushed, her cheeks turning a pinkish hue. _Why couldn't he have woken up ten minutes earlier during Nirvana?_ "Are you okay?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Don't worry, _Sunshine_," he winked, enjoying her continued embarrassment. "I'm fine."

"That's what you said right before you collapsed yesterday," she accused, reaching out to put a hand on his forehead.

"Care to fill me in?" Dean asked with a grimace, his memory of the last twelve hours sketchy at best. He let her feel his face with the back of her hand, assuring herself he was okay by confirming his fever was gone.

"We ran from Arawn and jumped in the river to get away and made it to this shack and spent the night here," she summarized, a bit too concisely.

"We _jumped_?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her, vaguely remembering things going down a little differently.

She grinned sheepishly. "Well, you may have needed some nudging," she admitted.

"You look tired," he said, searching her face for a reaction to his next question. "Did I keep you up?" He remembered bits of the nightmares, but wasn't sure if he had done what his dad had done all those years ago, screaming and crying out loud. He cringed inwardly at the memory. God, he hoped not.

She decided to give him a free pass. "Nah," she lied, looking away as she got up to loosen up her stiff joints. "One of us slept like a log the whole night. That left me to guard the door in case our friendly neighborhood Celtic God decided to drop by."

"Sorry," he apologized, guessing she wasn't quite telling the truth but deciding to go with it anyway. He tried to stand but found his legs still shaky. She moved next to him and took his arm as he hobbled over to the window, leaning his weight on the sill and taking a long look outside.

"It's dawn" he announced. "We should get moving." He turned towards her to see her putting her jacket back on. She had placed it under his head for a pillow. Shit, she must have been cold all night with no jacket, he though guiltily. "You doin' okay?" he asked sincerely.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she smiled back. "At least, I am now. Crappy night though, huh?" She smiled at him and gave her head a shake.

"What do you mean?" Dean quipped. "I give you jewelry," he pointed to the bracelet from the fair on her wrist, "and take you to a cozy, romantic cabin in the woods. Hell of a first date. I'm not surprised you were singing me love songs."

She laughed, handing him his gun, his knife, and his Zippo. "You're a jerk, you know that? FYI, most guys usually just spring for dinner."

"Tell you what," Dean rubbed his stomach. "I'll spring for breakfast as soon as we get back to civilization. I'm starving." He stashed his weapons and felt his pocket looking for his phone.

"Shit!" he cursed, remembering the phones getting wet. "Did you ever get a hold of Sammy?"

She shook her head and grabbed the two cells from where she had them spread out to dry. She handed Dean his and started putting hers back together to try it out. "They still weren't working a half hour ago."

Dean tried his also but still no luck with either. "We need to get back to the car," he said urgently. "Sam will be going ape-shit with worry." He looked up at her as he turned towards the door, swaying a bit unsteadily where he stood. "Your brother's gonna have my ass."

She moved to get the door for him, holding her arm out to steady him as they moved. "Don't worry, he won't blame you," she assured him. "I seem to manage to find trouble wherever I go, trust me. I probably shouldn't have come with you."

"Arawn still would have been there," Dean assured her sternly, surprised the girl could possibly feel any guilt for their current situation. "In fact, if you hadn't stabbed and shot him, he might have killed me back at the stones. This is not your fault."

Blaming herself, that was something Sam would have done had he been here. The kid was always shouldering too much responsibility when things went wrong, especially if they were unsuccessful in saving somebody. Of course, that naïve notion that they could save everybody was one of the reasons Dean loved him so much.

Alex shrugged but didn't answer him and they left the shack behind and followed the river down the hill towards the hunter's car. Dean was still unsteady on his feet and walked with his arm over Alex's shoulder but was able to take most of his weight himself this time. The occasional dizzy spell found him leaning more heavily on her until it passed but as they walked, the spells became fewer and farther between.

"Well," Alex teased about half way down. "You're definitely in no condition to drive. Looks like I'm gonna get behind the wheel of your Impala after all."

Dean snorted. "Oh, I think I'll manage. I've driven her in a lot worse condition than this." _Nobody _drove his baby but him, Sam, and occasionally Bobby. Family only.

The walk down took almost three hours. As they neared the road and where they had left the car, Dean's phone finally turned on and he cried triumphantly as he heard Sam's phone ringing on the other end.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Josh and Sam leaned against the hood of the Bronco at the side of the country road, trying to think of what to do and where to look next. As worried as Sam was, he felt badly for Josh, who seemed to be on the verge of losing it with fear.

"We've looked everywhere!" Josh cried in frustration. "Twice!"

"They've gotta be hiding in the woods somewhere," Sam repeated his theory, unwilling to accept any other option.

"Damnit!" Josh threw a rock across the street in frustration. "How do we search the entire woods?" His eyes brightened suddenly and he spun towards Sam. "Search and Rescue!" he exclaimed. "They've got planes!"

Sam frowned. "They also report to the Sheriff. But I think you're onto something, Josh." He hopped off the hood and dashed towards the passenger door. "A plane. Who do we know that can get us up in a plane?"

Josh grinned, seeing where Sam was going. "Jonas!" He bolted towards the driver's door, hopping in and starting up the engine. "It's early, but I'll bet Brody's at the motel. Call and find out where Jonas lives. He'll take us up in his plane if I have to threaten to shoot him."

Brody was indeed at the front desk, though he sounded half asleep when he answered. He was hesitant at first to give out his uncle's address, but Sam explained that it was a surprise for Alex, since it was her birthday tomorrow. Brody quickly obliged, more excited to find out his crush's birthday than interested in protecting his uncle.

Sam hung up and was about to relay the address to Josh when his phone rang, Dean's name coming up on the screen display.

"Dean!" Sam answered with relief. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"_Sammy!"_ came the hoarse voice on the other end.

"Is Lex okay?" Josh demanded, not waiting for Sam to pose the question.

Dean obviously heard him. "_We're fine, we're both fine. We're almost back to the Impala now,_" he replied.

"She's fine, they're both fine," Sam relayed to the anxious Josh before turning his attention back to the phone. "What happened? Where have you been all night?" he asked.

"_I'll fill you in later, little brother. You two okay?"_

"Yeah, we are now. Look, we'll meet you at the Impala; we're on our way." Sam waved his hand in a circle in the air, indicating to Josh to turn the Bronco around.

"_Okay, see you there,"_ Dean agreed, hanging up.

Sam clicked his phone off and grabbed the overhead handle to steady himself as Josh pulled the SUV into a tight U-turn on the highway, complete with tires screeching, to head back towards the Impala.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

Alex and Dean's spirits were lifted by the phone call, both having been privately worrying about what reckless acts their brothers might have justified committing when they hadn't shown up last night. Dean felt the girl's shoulders relax under his arm and grinned down at her.

"Your big brother's pretty protective, huh?"

She snorted. "You have no idea" she smiled. "Well, actually, you probably do," she added, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, it kind of comes with the territory," Dean admitted, not embarrassed. He had always taken his duty of looking out for Sam seriously.

"So what's with that anyway, some kind of big brother code?" she asked, only half in jest. "Give up everything – sell your freaking soul if you have to - for your little sibling?"

Dean's eyes widened for a second, wondering how much Sam had told her yesterday. Then he realized she was being metaphoric and referring to Josh, not Dean and Sam, and a wave of relief swept over him. He would really rather the Winchester problems and cycle of martyrdom remained between the Winchesters and Bobby.

"What, the big FBI career?" he sneered. "Trust me, I barely know the guy, but I can tell you for a fact Josh doesn't regret giving that up to keep you safe."

"FBI career? Is that what he told you he gave up?" she snorted. "Typical Josh. He gave up a hell of a lot more than that." She spoke more softly. "He gave up everything. I literally cost him everything."

"See," Dean answered lightheartedly, "that must be some kind of little sibling code. Always gotta be so melodramatic. Did it ever occur to you that you are everything? Everything that matters to Josh anyway." Sam was everything to Dean - it was quite simple to the elder Winchester.

"Okay, Oprah," she laughed then remained silent for a minute before continuing. "I admit, everything he gave up he did willingly and would do it again but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty about it."

Dean nodded. "Point taken." He couldn't argue with that. He had lived with the guilt over what his father had given up for him so he couldn't expect Sam to be guilt-free about what Dean had gone through to save his life. But guilt-ridden or not, Sam was alive. That had been all that had mattered. That was still all that mattered.

"Josh just wants normal," Alex continued in an uncharacteristic moment of sharing. "He wants a nine-to-five, he wants to spend the weekends on the beach with his board, he wants a house, a wife, two point five kids, a dog. Did you know he gets some crappy job in every city we move to? I mean... what for, right?"

She had intended the question to be rhetorical, but Dean raised his eyebrows at her. "You're criticizing him for trying to bring in an honest living?"

"Of course not," she explained. "I'm just saying that he doesn't need to work. We came into a pretty big chunk of change a few years back and our friend Tag invested it really well for us. Honestly, we don't need the money. Josh doesn't work to bring in money; he works because it makes him feel normal. He hates the constant moving around, though he'd never admit it. A few years back, we lived in Tennessee. One of our longer stints, almost six months this time. He met this awesome chick, Teri. He was crazy about her. I mean _crazy_. He would have married her in a heartbeat but... but my problems not caught up with us. Red-Eyes showed up and when Josh came home and saw my bust-up arm, know what he did?"

Recognizing this one as rhetorical, Dean waited for her answer this time.

"He split. We hopped in the car and just drove away. The usual deal as if nothing was different. We ditched the phones, called Beacon from a payphone for more ID's, and kept driving 'til we reached Tampa Bay. He never called her, never said goodbye, never explained anything to her. He just vanished out of her life." Her expression was sad. "Poor girl, she was so sweet," she said with a sigh. "They were really good together. He's never dated seriously since then, and now..." She snorted. "Now he's frigging Deuce Bigalow."

Alex wasn't sure why she was spilling the family history quite so readily but decided to blame it on how exhausted she felt. As the realization of her overdose of information sharing hit her, she resorted to humour to put a quick end to it. She grinned up at Dean, "So what's your excuse?"

He laughed. "Hey, I'm still a virgin."

They were still laughing as they came out of the trees just in time to see the Bronco pull up. It had barely made a complete stop before Josh was out of the driver's door and running towards them. He practically barreled into Alex, wrapping her in a tight hug, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh my God, Sis! You had me so worried. Are you sure you're okay? I love you more than anything, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know. I love you too. I'm fine, I swear," she replied, her voice slightly muffled by his bear hug.

Sam strode quickly over to his brother, who looked pale. He noticed Dean had been leaning on Alex when they had come out of the trees and was worried. He clasped his hand on Dean's shoulder, a Winchester-style expression of deep affection. "Dean, man, you alright?" he asked, a bit awkwardly. He really wanted to hug his brother and tell him how scared he had been with worry, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. The John Winchester School of Repressed Emotions still had its influence.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little lightheaded. I'll need you to drive my car." Dean squeezed Sam's wrist as a return indication that he was happy to see his brother also. He glanced over at the Brentons and a stab of jealousy shot through him. Josh was still hugging Alex, telling her exactly how much he loved her and how worried he was and exactly how he'd feel if he ever lost her. Dean even thought he saw a glint of tears in the blond man's eyes. It was nice to see the pair express their feelings so openly. Well, Josh was doing most of the expressing, but it was still sweet. Why couldn't he and Sam have that? Not to that extent, of course - he would feel insanely uncomfortable the whole hug, kissing-of-the-head part, but why were Winchesters so awkward when it came to letting each other know how much they cared for one another? Dean remembered a time when he could tousle Sam's hair and give him hugs and tell him he loved him. That was all before Sam turned ten, of course, but Dean remembered it like it was yesterday. Now Dean would sell his soul for his brother but couldn't bring himself to say '_I love you_.' Not even '_Love ya dude_'.

Dean cleared his throat loudly in his usual tactless manner. "What do you say we hit the diner for breakfast? I'm starving."

Alex grinned over at him. "That's right, you owe me a breakfast."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_So Dean's safe - that makes it Sam's turn next, right? R&R'ing would be lovely :)_

_Sorry, I didn't post yesterday - I was busy WATCHING THE AWESOME FINALE. lol. I won't spoiler but I really enjoyed it and thought it ended in a very interesting place to start next year. But alas... deep sigh... four month hiatus. Bummer. Thank God for fanfic, right?_


	12. Better Than a Sonic Fishfinder

Chapter 12

Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head against the passenger window of the Impala, enjoying the comfort of its leather, even if he was in Sam's usual shotgun seat. The familiar smell of the Chevy was welcoming and he even derived a small measure of pleasure from the impatient huffs his brother was making in response to his one word answers to the younger hunter's steady stream of questions.

"So it was Arawn?" Sam demanded.

"Uh-huh."

"And he attacked you?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get away?"

"We ran."

Another familiar huff. "You're hurt. How badly?"

Dean groaned. "Sam, I'm fine. I swear I'll fill you in after we eat. Just let me close my eyes for a few minutes."

"Just tell me where you're hurt then. You have a head wound?" Sam was not relenting until he knew his brother was fine and Dean's pale face and lack of energy were not comforting.

Dean sighed, giving up on trying to rest through the slight dizzy spell and willing himself to sit up straight. "Yes it was Arawn. He was at the circle. He slashed my shoulder and on the back of my neck, not too bad but I guess it was the infected kind of wound 'cause pretty soon I couldn't stay on my feet."

"The infected kind? Like when Dad got cut by the Aitvaras?" Sam didn't remember the incident very well but Dean had told him a little about it a few years later when they thought Bobby may be suffering the same fate. The older mechanic had shown up in the middle of the night at their motel room in Arkansas with four long cuts on his arm and spouting jibberish before collapsing. It turned out he had been in a bar fight and was just stinking drunk, but fifteen year old Dean had been in a near panic at the time. As usual, their dad had been away.

"Yeah, like that," Dean admitted quietly, not wanting any more questions on the subject.

"Were you out of it?" Sam asked carefully, hating the thought of his brother being subjected to even more nightmares. He had been having more than his fair share already. "I take it you killed Arawn before you got too bad." Sam belatedly realized Dean would have already mentioned it had Arawn been taken out. "Or at least took him down for a spell?" he added.

Dean shook his head. "Not even close. Though we did get a bit of a heads up. Alex felt the thing coming before it showed up."

Sam remembered that the girl was supposed to be what was commonly referred to as a 'sensitive'. "Really?"

"Yeah, it was actually kind of cool. As far as psychic powers go, I gotta admit, hers could come in handy in our line of work. It's like supernatural radar, better than a freaking sonic fishfinder," he chuckled. "Smells the evil suckers a mile away." He turned to Sam. "Now why couldn't you get one like that?" he teased.

Sam hid the hurt the comment inflicted, knowing it hadn't been ill-intentioned. Leave it up to Dean to be terrified of Sam's powers but think the hot girl's were cool. But Alex didn't have demon blood in her like he did, he reminded himself again.

"According to Josh, the evil suckers sense her too," he pointed out. "Makes it pretty hard to hide from them or sneak up on them. Not so good for a hunter."

"Yeah, I guess." Dean rested his temple on the Impala window and stared thoughtfully at the trees flashing by as they drove back towards the motel. "There was this wolf," he told Sam, his voice quiet. "It just stood there looking at us, like less than ten feet away. It was freaky, but kinda awesome."

Sam remembered a dog outside the café two days ago that had definitely taking a particular liking to Alex. Wolves were in the same genus on the evolutionary tree as dogs and he figured it did make some sort of sense that they would perceive a supernatural ability, though they had never taken any special notice of him. That was probably a good thing since dogs often had bad reactions to demons. Ruby had been snapped at more than once by a passing dog.

"Lex did really good," Dean announced suddenly, to Sam's slight surprise. Dean rarely gave other hunters any credit. He was generally of the cocky opinion that a Winchester could have done better.

"Oh yeah?" The use of Alex's nickname hadn't gone unnoticed by Sam either.

Dean shrugged. "She stabbed the thing twice then shot it like twelve times. You wanna know what's embarrassing? I didn't get a single shot off," he admitted.

Sam looked over at his brother, taken aback at the older hunter's uncharacteristic modesty. "You starting to like her?" he asked, his mouth pulling into a teasing grin.

Dean grunted his disapproval at the comment and closed his eyes. "I like all hot chicks, Sam. You should seriously have figured that out by now."

If the full parking lot was any indication, the Celtic Lodge Diner was a popular breakfast spot. The Winchesters watched Josh drop Alex off at the diner door before driving across the parking lot in search of an empty space.

"Don't even think about it!" Dean snapped before Sam could offer. "I'll frigging walk."

Sam didn't even try to hide his smile. _God he loved his stubborn ass of a brother. _He pulled up next to the blue Bronco, which had been backed into its narrow spot. At first thinking it was an unnecessary and paranoid habit, Sam had been informed that the pair always reversed in just in case they had to leave in a hurry should their demon show up. They exchanged nods of greeting to Josh and headed over to the diner with him.

Alex had found an empty booth next to the window in the very near full diner and sat back while the waitress cleared the empty dishes from the previous occupants. She looked out the window and studied the three men walking across the gravel parking lot to join her, amused at how different from each other they appeared in that moment. Sam with his awkward hands-in-his-pockets hunched-over shuffle, no doubt a product of always being the tallest in the room and not wanting to stand out. Even hurried, Josh's laid-back rolling gait gave the impression he didn't have anywhere to be just then. And Dean, Alex chuckled out loud as she watched the oldest Winchester walking towards the diner. His cocky swagger simply oozed male machismo. If Sam hadn't informed her the brothers were from Kansas, she would have certainly pegged him for a Texas boy.

Her musings were cut short by a cry from the other side of the diner.

"Alex!" It was Brody. She gritted her teeth and briefly closed her eyes at the thought of having to deal with the exuberant kid right now. All she wanted was to have a quick bite to eat then grab some shut-eye. She turned to greet him, though her smile was anything but heartfelt.

"Hey Brody, how are you doing?" she managed.

He scooted into the booth bench next to her, grinning from ear to ear. "I hear it's your birthday tomorrow," he cooed.

Alex raised her eyebrows, not sure where the kid had picked up this misinformation. Her birthday had been last month. "Uh, how'd you know?" she asked.

"You'd be amazed what I know!" He was going for flirty, but couldn't quite manage to raise the eyebrows without appearing bug-eyed so he wasn't achieving the desired effect. He gave her a knowing elbow nudge.

Alex glanced at the door thankfully to see the guys coming in.

"Did you get the special delivery to your room?" Brody pressed.

"Huh?" Alex gave him a confused look. "Special delivery?"

Brody looked deflated. "The daisies? I had them delivered to your room. For you."

"Oh," she said awkwardly, feeling badly for being too tired to think of a tactful way to let the kid down easy. "Uh, I'm sorry, I haven't seen them yet. I was on a stakeout all night." She lied. "Work, you know. That was really nice of you though, uh, I'm sure I'll enjoy them when I get back to my room."

She looked up to see the guys grinning at her predicament and gave them a pleading look. Brody followed her gaze but greeted them with a far less welcoming scowl. It was Josh who attempted to rescue her.

"Uh, Brody, mind if I have that seat?" he asked as Dean and Sam slid into the bench across from the pair.

Brody nodded but didn't move to get up. Sam noticed the quick wink the kid gave Dean before turning towards Alex again. "You're writing about the murders, right? So you heard about Stan Wainwright? Pretty gruesome, huh?"

"Who?" Sam asked sharply, "What happened?"

Brody smiled, obviously enjoying the full attention he now commanded. "Stan Wainwright is this crabby ass dude that lives in town by the gas station," he informed them. "The cops found him this morning burnt to a crisp in his back yard. Somebody doused him in gasoline and pyro'd his ass!"

The four hunters exchanged looks, all realizing this had to be Arawn's fourth victim. Before they could ask any questions, Brody grabbed Alex's wrist and tugged her out of the booth. "You're a reporter, right? You need an interview? I'll introduce you to my friend over at the counter, Bill. He's a deputy. You can get like, an exclusive or something. He was supposed to be off duty today but had to go to Stan's murder scene 'cause the Sheriff was out of town."

Alex didn't like that Bill was a cop but decided she should probably see if there was any useful information to be gathered. Josh moved to go with them but Brody, who still hadn't let go of Alex's arm, shook his head. "No cameraman dude," he snapped. "Bill's not supposed to say anything so he won't talk if there's too many people around."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Order for me," she called back to her brother as she followed Brody across the diner towards an older man with a moustache sitting at the counter broodily stirring his coffee.

Josh sat back down, grinning but shaking his head. "That kid has to be stopped, man. It's getting creepy."

Dean chuckled and Sam gave him a suspicious look. "The flowers," he accused, "That was your doing wasn't it? You put the kid up to it?"

"Guilty," Dean admitted, still snickering. "Hah, I can't believe he actually did it."

"Dude, that's just mean. The kid has feelings, you know," Sam chided.

"Hey, I'm helping him. You can't become a man until you've had your heart crushed by an older woman," Dean defended. Josh laughed, nodding his head in agreement.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sam continued. "I never did."

"My point exactly," Dean jeered. _How did his wiz-kid brother still so easily walk into these things?_

The waitress, an older lady of about sixty, came back to take their drink orders and handed them some menus. Dean filled the other men in on most of the details of his previous night's adventures while they waited. Alex rejoined them after a couple of minutes, thankful that Brody had to leave for school. Bill was apparently not in the mood for talking to strangers and had not provided any useful information.

"There are no witnesses and apparently everyone in town has motive," she offered. "This dead guy was not well liked at all."

"Okay, so back to you two running from Arawn," Josh said, a little shaken upon hearing about his sister's way-too-close call and giving her an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. "What happened to the phones? Why didn't you call us?"

"Well, _Sunshine_ here," Dean jerked his thumb towards Alex, who blushed again at the teasing nickname, "Pushed me into the river. The phones were toast."

"Yeah, sorry," Alex apologized again. "I didn't think."

"It was a smart move," Dean assured her. "Probably saved our lives."

"Well, we know why Arawn didn't come back for us," she said. "He must have been too busy torching Mr. Wainwright."

"So what did you guys find out at the college?" Dean asked, turning to his brother. "Anything useful?"

"Hell, yeah," Sam remembered they hadn't yet filled his brother in on the information they had received from the professor as well as the spell book they had scored at the Sheriff's house. He and Josh took turns in relaying the night's events.

"I had to listen to like three hours of Bob Marley in the car!" Sam commented when they were done, with a grin aimed at the blond man.

Alex laughed. "You should be thankful! Exactly three artists get played in my brother's car. Bob Marley, Pink Floyd, and Leonard Cohen. And I swear, you're ready to shoot yourself after a few hours of Leonard Cohen. At least you get some variety in the Impala." She threw a teasing look at Dean, "Even if your brother's collection is dated."

"So, Sis, maybe you could take a look at the book, we think it's in Gaelic," Josh suggested, rescuing Dean and averting any further slander of his own musical idols.

"You know Gaelic?" Sam asked, impressed.

She shrugged. "Not very much. Most of what I learned how to say probably won't be useful. But I know the basics and I'm sure I can translate the rest from online dictionaries."

Josh chuckled, reaching forward to take his frothy coffee from the waitress. "She dated this Scottish cop once," he explained, rolling his eyes. "Chicks and fricking accents. What a loser he was."

Alex gave her brother a sharp elbow in the ribs. "He wasn't a loser," she defended. "It wasn't his fault," she added before changing the subject quickly. "So what's the plan?" she asked as their server walked out of earshot. "What's our next move?"

"Simple," Dean replied. "We use the spell to shut the circle down, preferably with that sonofabitch on the other side."

"Not so simple," Sam argued. "How do we get him to stand in the circle and wait while we recite the spell? And that's assuming the spells work, we haven't deciphered them yet."

"How about if we fire a truckload of silver into him and chop his head off?" Josh suggested with a shrug. "I've yet to come across anything corporeal that can't be killed by cutting its head off."

"Too risky!" Alex cried quickly, not liking the idea of her brother, or either of their new friends, trying to chop the head off a vicious, poisonous, seven-foot tall horned God.

"I tell you, the damn Colt would come in handy right about now." Dean no longer cursed Bela when he thought of the Colt. In fact, he felt a small measure of pity for her. Having suffered through time in the pit himself, he wouldn't wish that fate on anyone, even a conniving, self-serving bitch.

"We haven't tried iron," offered Alex, doubtfully.

Dean shook his head. "If silver, holy water, and salt don't work, we can be pretty sure iron won't either."

Sam sat back with a huff. "Well, if no conventional methods are going to work, we'll have to go with unconventional."

Dean looked up sharply at his brother. "Don't even think it!" he snapped. There was no way he was going to let Sam try to use his freaky psychic powers. Just because they stopped Lillith once didn't mean they could stop this thing. That was way too risky andnot gonna happen, even if he had to knock Sam on the head to stop him.

Sam gave him a warning look before continuing. "Which brings us back to the spell book," he said sternly, letting the older Winchester know he hadn't been going to suggest using his powers at all. Dean's shoulders relaxed a little.

"So assuming Lex confirms the spells are what we think they are, how do we get this portal locked with that thing in it?" Josh asked. "We can't wait much longer, he seems to kill every couple of days and according to Junior here," he jerked a thumb towards Sam, "We've got until tomorrow night before he kills someone else."

"Maybe we can go up there and perform most of the spell, then just wait for him to show up, lure him in the circle, and finish the spell quickly," Sam proposed. "It's not a great plan, but…"

"But we've had worse and we're still here," Dean finished for him.

"Are you guys all right to walk up there again?" Alex looked wary. "You two were limping yesterday." She looked at Josh and Sam. "And you…" she let the sentence trail off as she glanced quickly at Dean, who still looked pale.

"I'm fine," came three replies in unison, making everyone chuckle.

"Or I will be if my breakfast ever gets here," Dean added, his eyes searching the diner for their waitress. Good. She looked as if she was heading their way.

"The only problem would be what if Arawn shows up before we get to the circle? You said he was pretty quick, what if he gets the jump on us?" Sam voiced his concerns, mostly to his own brother.

Dean grinned at Alex. "We've got Dr. Doolittle here to give us the heads up."

The waitress showed up at the table distracting Dean just as the sugar packet landed at the nape of his neck and slid down the front of his shirt, much to Alex's satisfaction. He considered tossing one back at her but Sam put a restraining hand on his arm, his look warning him that the waitress wouldn't approve of the antics. He could feel his stomach growling in anticipation as a large plate of bacon, sausages, eggs, and hash browns was placed in front of him and the fight was forgotten.

"Mam, would I be able to get some syrup?" Sam asked politely, smiling at the elderly server.

"Why sure thing doll," she smiled back, tousling his hair as she spoke. "I'll be back in a jiffy, though a sweet young man like yourself sure don't need no extra sugar!" she winked. Sam blushed furiously.

Dean snorted as soon as she was out of earshot. "What is it with you, dude?" he cried. "You're like a freakin' old lady magnet!"

Josh laughed as he dug into his pancakes. "It's the shaggy hair and the puppy dog eyes, Bro. Older women zone in on kids who look like they need some mothering."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam huffed, deciding to return the tease. "That's right, I forgot. You're Dr. Phil."

"Lexie, you been talking about me again?" Josh jokingly accused, elbowing his sister.

She was about to deny having said anything of the sort but Sam ratted her out. "She said that after two days with us you'd know everything about us, what makes us tick," he snitched.

Dean snorted again. "Huh. I'd like to see that. Lay it on me, dude," he challenged, his mouth full of sausage. "Come on," he pressed when Josh didn't comply.

"It's not a parlour trick," Josh squirmed.

"Let's hear it," Dean pressed. "I want to hear how you've figured out how extremely charming, brave, and intelligent I am. Not to mention handsome. Give it to me."

Josh gave in. He knew he was good at reading people and had a habit of noticing small mannerisms and comments that gave away what was going on inside their heads. Lexie joked and teased him about it, but it was true. He did it all the time without even realizing he was doing it. He had noticed enough in the two days with these two to know there was a lot going on with the Winchester brothers that he couldn't possibly decipher, but Dean wasn't as difficult to read as the hunter might like to think he was - as he tried very hard to be. But despite the enigma, Josh had seen enough to know he liked both brothers and he was very seldom wrong about whom he liked and disliked.

"Okay, I'll start with you," he ventured, grinning at Dean. "You are one tough bastard, I'll give you that. And on the outside you totally run with this tough-guy image, like everything just rolls off you, but on the inside, you feel things very deeply."

Sam let out a guffaw through a mouthful of pancakes. Dean shot him a warning look. "Not even close!" he protested. "I don't do the caring and sharing chick flick moments. "That's your thing!" he retaliated accusingly.

Josh grinned, not offended. "You care more about people and doing the right thing than you'll ever admit so there's no point in arguing with you. Face it, Dean, you're a sensitive soul with a good heart. No scruples, mind you, but you're a pretty decent excuse for a human being."

Dean blushed, feeling uncomfortable and having no idea how to respond. Why the hell had he pushed the Dr. Phil routine? "Well, if I'm all soft on the inside," he deflected, "Then Sammy here must be a melting pile of marshmallow goo."

"Actually, quite the opposite," Josh continued, having paid a little extra attention to the younger Winchester during their twenty-four hours together. Sam was easier to read than Dean and he was quicker to talk, probably due to the fact that something had obviously been bothering him of late, something probably related to the young hunter's earlier cryptic lines of questioning. "Baby Winchester here may be all sensitive, doe-eyed boy-scout on the outside, but there's a bit of a hard streak in Sam here that you don't have," he said, nodding to Dean. "He can dissociate easier."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded, not liking the implication of Josh's last comment, even though it had been said with no malice.

Josh, sensing the older brother's protectiveness kicking in, hesitated and debated lying about his appraisal of the younger Winchester. But he decided to go with the truth, hoping he wouldn't offend Sam also. "I just meant that he's not as sweet and innocent as he first comes across. There's a dark side to him too. He thinks…"

"There is no dark side to Sam," Dean defended hotly, standing up and trying to keep cool. "You got that completely wrong. You're no fucking Dr. Phil at all, dude. I gotta use the can." He scooted out past Sam and walked away quickly towards the diner washrooms, shoulders stiff.

Josh winced. "Oops, that didn't go well." He turned towards Sam again. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean that in a bad way; I was just saying that you can think things through and do what you know needs done... the right thing I mean. You lead with your head while your brother goes with his heart."

Sam waved his hand in the air, demonstrating no offense had been taken. "Don't worry about it. He just gets really protective, especially when it comes to, uh, certain subjects." He found Josh's analysis interesting and had to admit, he agreed with both counts. Most people didn't see through Dean's facade quite as quickly as Josh had. In fact, he himself hadn't really come to realize just how deeply Dean felt things until recent years, after Stanford, after meeting Cassie, after their Dad had died. Now he noticed every tiny facial twitch or slight muscle tensing that were the only give-aways to the depths of emotional pain hidden beneath the surface. And recently, these small indicators were occurring all the time, ever-multiplying chinks in Dean's armour.

As for Josh's comments about him, Sam didn't want to think so but couldn't help but wonder if the man had been right on that front also. It was as if Josh had inadvertently voiced Sam's worst insecurities. He had demon blood in him; maybe he just wasn't all good. Maybe there was an evil or dark streak in him. Maybe when he failed to save someone, it was because he didn't try hard enough, didn't care enough. And just maybe, when he did give it his all and did manage to save someone, part of the reason he had tried so hard was to convince himself he did care and prove that he was a good person. Perhaps Dean needed some convincing of this also. He wouldn't have been so defensive if he had really had no doubts on the touchy subject.

Josh had assessed that Sam could do what needed to be done. Sam thought of Madison. He had done it. Most people probably wouldn't have been able to, but he had gone through with it. He told himself he had been brave and strong and _**right**_ to do what he had done, but there was always a cloud of doubt nagging at him. Even though it had been Dean who had made the suggestion, Sam knew that if the shoe had been on his big brother's foot and Dean had cared intimately for the girl, he would never have gone through with it. Just look at what Dean had done for his brother in the past three years. Even when the facts were stacked against Sam, Dean never lost his faith in him or gave up on him.

In the cabin outside Jefferson City, Missouri, when the yellow-eyed demon had possessed John Winchester and nearly killed Dean, Sam remembered standing over his father holding the Colt. His father was begging him to shoot him and end this once and for all. If Dean hadn't pleaded Sam with what could very well have been his dying breaths not to do it, Sam would have. In retrospect, things may have turned out better if he had shot John there and then but even knowing that, Sam knew Dean would still never have done it. Family was everything to him. Josh had been right, Dean led with his heart.

Dean was amicable enough when he returned to the table, but the conversation for the duration of the meal was far less jovial and centered around the plans for the hunt. It was decided that they would get a few hours sleep and that Alex would try to translate the spells in the book to see if they indeed had one they could lock to portal with. They split up as they left the diner and headed back to their respective motel rooms, all eager for some shut-eye.

SPN-SPN-SPN

It was mid-afternoon by the time Dean and Sam made their way over to the Brentons' motel room to see if Alex had made any headway on interpreting the spells. She was sitting at the motel room table pouring over the first spell book. Dean chuckled at the sight of the vase of daisies on the table and scooped up the card, trying not to laugh out loud as he read it.

"Well I just got started and hour ago," she admitted, having reluctantly dragged herself out of bed to do so. "But it definitely looks promising. I'm sure this is a spell to lock the circle and the next one is to unlock it. I think this third one," she flipped a few pages forward, "is something to do with allowing Arawn to carry souls with him from here." She flipped another page, "And I'm guessing this one must be something to do with bringing souls back here from the Underworld. Those last two involve some sort of ritual with burning some strange crap and I think drinking blood. The rest seem to be the opposite or counteracting spells with a few extras that I think are to help with the fall harvest."

Josh emerged from the washroom, a cloud of steam floating out with him, having had a shower to wake himself up. "Hey guys," he greeted the brothers as he flopped down on one of the beds.

"Give me another hour to finish deciphering the locking one to be sure we don't miss anything," his sister finished.

Dean fidgeted, hands in his pockets. "An hour, huh?"

Josh sat up, reaching for a deck of cards from the dresser. "Poker, Bro?" he gestured at Dean.

Dean grinned and hopped onto the end of the bed, hand outstretched. "My deal."

Sam huffed and sat in the other chair, reaching for the second book he and Josh had taken from the Sheriff's house that he noticed lying on the motel table. His brother hadn't wanted to talk about anything he'd experienced under the influence of the infected cuts the previous night but Sam knew Dean hadn't managed to get any sleep in the four hours since breakfast. Though he kept insisting he was fine, Dean's face was still drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes. The last thing Sam felt his brother should be planning on right now was another showdown with Arawn. He felt slightly guilty for agreeing so readily to the current plan. He had also debated leaving Josh and Alex out of it, at Dean's suggestion, but had insisted in the end that Alex's 'supernatural radar' could be useful. If it could give them a head's up and help keep his brother safe, he was willing to risk their new friends also. Besides, it wasn't like they didn't understand the danger involved, they certainly weren't going in blind. He decided to try and stop worrying about it and turned his attention to the old book in his hands.

Sam had always enjoyed the research portion of hunting and found original copies of mythological texts such as this one fascinating. He ignored the escalating friendly taunts from the poker-playing duo and was quickly enthralled in the book, even though much of the text was in Gaelic. It wasn't a spell book, but seemed to be more of a history of the story of Arawn and Pwyll, the human who befriended the God and guarded the first portal, or stone circle, that Arawn had used to come to this world hundreds of years ago in ancient Scotland. The age of the book and the relationship the current owners, now the previous owners, seemed to have with Arawn bode well as for the book's authenticity. Sam would be sure to give this one to Bobby, whose extensive and impressive collection was by far the best Sam had ever seen.

An hour later found the poker game getting rowdier and the stakes getting higher. Sam shook his head as Josh pulled his Desert Eagle out of his pack and tossed it in the pile between him and Dean, evoking an eager grin from the eldest Winchester. Sam was still hearing stories about the Desert Eagle his brother had owned briefly while Sam had been away at Stanford. Apparently Dean had only owned it for about a month before losing it into a lake during a fight with a particularly nasty poltergeist. In Sam's mind, it was an impractical and bulky gun, had too much muzzle flash, and used a higher caliber cartridge. But Dean being Dean had liked the flashy style of it and the fact that it had been Arnold Schwarzenegger's gun of choice in _Commando_, his big brother's favourite movie when he had been in first grade.

"Josh," Alex pleaded from where she sat at the table, thinking this friendly rivalry that seemed to have instantly blossomed between these two men was about to cost her brother a gun he was very fond of.

Josh raised his hand to cut off the warning. "I know what I'm doing, Sis." Alex just shrugged and returned to her work deciphering the last few words of the unlocking spell. Turning to Dean, Josh waved a hand at the gun. "That should match your bet."

Dean laughed. "That'll do it, my friend. What do you have?"

"Ha!" Josh threw his hand down with a shout. "Read 'em and weep. Full house, kings high!"

His smile faded quickly when he noticed Dean's did not. With a cocky grin and a gleam in his eye, Dean dropped his cards on the bed and picked up the pistol. "Straight Flush! Sorry, Beach-boy."

Sam smiled as he noticed his brother looked anything but sorry. Sam also realized that was the third time his brother had managed a straight flush, which was a highly unlikely probability without a little manipulation of the deck.

"Shit," Josh laughed, being his usual good sport and not grudging his opponent his prize, at least not on the outside. Damnit, he really liked that gun. "Is there anything you're _not_ any good at?"

Sam snorted but didn't volunteer an answer.

"One of these days we'll have to hit the coast and see how well you can rock a longboard," Josh challenged.

"Bring it," Dean smirked, having no clue what 'rocking a longboard' even meant.

Alex looked up from the book, throwing her pen down and stretching her arms behind her head. "Well if you two kids are finished your playground pissing contest," she grinned, throwing her brother an _I-told-you-so _look, "I'm done. This is definitely the right spell and I'm pretty sure I can recite it if we get Arawn into the circle."

"Any ritual to go with it?" Sam asked, hoping there wasn't a sacrifice to be made or other such obstacle.

"No, not for the locking and unlocking spells," she answered. "From what I can figure, reciting this first part creates a sort of a seal on the circle itself, essentially locking any demons or gods or villains of the supernatural variety in it. Humans can still pass through the seal, though. Apparently the ancient Scots would use this part when they just wanted to speak to their Gods, or offer sacrifices, which were thrown into the circle. The settlement or village leaders weren't overly trusting, I guess, 'cause they stayed safely on the outside of the seal."

"That could come in handy for us," Dean noted, standing up to tuck his cash winnings in his pocket and his new pistol in the back of his pants next to his Colt .45.

"Yeah," Josh agreed, making up his mind to win his gun back from Dean at a later date. "We can lure the beast into the circle, put the seal on it, then we run out and he's stuck inside."

Alex nodded. "Theoretically, that should work. The second part of the spell should send anything within the circle back through the portal to wherever it came from, and the third part locks it permanently," she finished.

"Sounds like a plan. When do we go?" Dean grabbed the last slice of the pizza they had ordered while waiting for Alex to finish the geek work.

"Why wait?" Sam suggested. "Josh has enough silver bullets for all four of us to have a full clip and then some. If we go now, we can be there before dark. We may have to wait around for him to show up but I think we've got a better chance of him still being there in the daylight. It was daytime when you two last ran into him up there," he pointed out to Dean and Alex.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Back at their cabin gathering their weapons, Sam turned to his brother. "You sure you're up for this hike again, Dean?" he asked worriedly.

Dean rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "For the last time Sam, I'm fine. I've done a lot more feeling a hell of a lot worse. I should be asking you that question, gimp," he deflected, pointing to Sam's knee. "You sure you're able to walk up there again?"

"Yeah, I seem to have walked it off the last trip up," Sam shrugged, glad this was actually the surprising truth. His knee was feeling better; staying off it for most of the morning at the college seemed to have helped as the swelling was gone. He answered the knock at the door, letting Josh and Alex in. They had decided to take one car over to the bridge as it would be easier to hide in the trees, and Dean had naturally insisted it be the Impala.

The Brentons stood patiently while the Winchesters got ready. Dean slid an extra silver knife into his other boot and tucked a large knife with carvings on the sheath into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He had filled his pistol with Josh's silver bullets but re-checked the clip before tucking the weapon into his pants, thinking he should probably return the two hundred bucks he had won during the poker game if they used all these bullets today since they had probably cost the surfer-turned-hunter close to a grand. He holstered a second Glock and stuffed it into another of his many numerous jacket pockets. He slid one extra clip into his pants pocket and another into his shirt pocket. He had filled two flasks of holy water and pocketed them along with a small bag of gofer dust and the one evergreen stake they had left. He was strapping a third, smaller silver knife to his wrist when he heard a snicker.

"You should totally have some suiting-up montage music playing right now, Bro!" Josh grinned at him, evoking a snort of laughter from Sam.

Dean huffed, feeling self-conscious at the ribbing and giving Sam a traitorous scowl. Alex laughed. "Don't worry Dean," she winked at him teasingly, "I think the whole Rambo routine is hot."

Even more flustered, Dean just snorted. "What? I like to be prepared," he defended, again not sure if Alex was flirting with him or making fun of him.

"Yeah, well, we're losing daylight," Sam grinned, again enjoying seeing his womanizing brother unsettled by a girl. "You almost ready Sly?"

SPN-SPN-SPN

_**TBC...**_

_Sorry for the delay in posting. Will have a much more exciting chapter posted tomorrow, I promise. If you're still reading, please leave a review._


	13. I'm Your Brother!

**Chapter 13 - I'm Your ****Brother****! **

They reached the circle without incident nor any sign of Arawn. All four had drawn their guns when they had left the open riverside and turned into the woods. Alex complained about having to carry one of Sam's big Glocks and was determined to search for her lost Rami when they had finished neutering the stones. Not sure what else to do but wait, the three men stood in the center of the circle while Alex stood just outside it.

"Hey Dickhead!" Dean yelled into the woods, getting impatient after only a few moments. "Get your ass over here! Come finish what you started!"

Alex and Josh laughed, amused at Dean's gall while Sam simply shook his head, not surprised at all. Dean continued the shouted taunts with increasing crudeness for the better part of a half hour to no avail. With twilight approaching, the four were starting to get nervous that Arawn wouldn't show.

Suddenly Alex gasped and raised an arm at Dean to silence him. "He's coming!" she cried, looking around frantically trying to figure out from which direction the beast would appear. She had pulled the book containing the spell from Josh's backpack when they first reached the stones and now held it tightly against her chest, ready to start reading as soon as Arawn was in the circle. She could feel the hair standing up on the back of her neck and the now familiar coldness passing through her like a terrifying and painful ice-cream chill. "That way!" she pointed south and ran around quickly to the opposite end of the circle. She dropped to her knees and opened the book up to the locking spell.

All three men spun to face south, lowering their guns to be less obvious until they could get eyes on the beast. It only took a few seconds for him to appear, moving quickly and stealthily out of the woods with an angry look on his face. He let out a howl as he charged for Dean first. The elder Winchester coolly stood his ground until the beast had actually passed between two stones and entered the circle, at which time he drew the gun from behind his back and started firing silver bullets in rapid succession. Sam and Josh joined in, each hunter being careful not to hit the others in the circle. Sam repositioned himself behind the beast so that it was virtually surrounded.

"Start reading!" Dean yelled at Alex but she was already shouting the Gaelic words. The first part of the verse to establish the seal was fairly short, about ten lines or so. She was as careful and accurate as she could be under the circumstances with regards to the pronunciation. The Gaelic she had learned from her short-lived relationship with the Scottish guy a few years back was limited but she remembered the basics fairly well.

Arawn screamed in agony as he was hit continuously from three directions. He looked up furiously at Dean and lunged, obviously deciding that if he was going to charge, it was going to be in the familiar hunter's direction. Dean raised his gun to aim for Arawn's face, hoping to stall it at least long enough for the seal to take hold. Sam moved closer, ceasing fire and yelling to try and get the beast's attention away from his brother. It was still jerking and screaming when Alex yelled that she was done.

Dean hoped like Hell this worked. "Sam! Get out! We're ready!" he yelled to his brother as he ran for the outside of the circle. He felt a strange sensation as he passed between two stones, like an electrical current running through him. "Whoa!" he gasped as he turned back to make sure his brother and Josh had made it out also. Josh was just exiting between two stones to the right and judging by his shuddering reaction, had felt the same freaky electrical sensation. Sam was running also, almost at the far side while the creature still hunkered near the center of the circle.

Dean was about to cheer out loud at their success so far when he heard Sam cry out. He spun to see his brother quivering in a strange manner between the two stones on the opposite side of the circle before taking a step back inside. "Sam!" he yelled, not sure what was going on. Sam staggered a few steps then made another run for the circle edge, this time between the next two stones closer to Josh. As he hit the invisible wall, however, he jerked again, screamed, and took a few steps back into the circle. "Sam!" Dean yelled again.

Sam looked over at him, face white with obvious pain. "I can't get out!" he panted.

Arawn was slowly getting to his feet. Dean lunged forward, firing his weapon at the beast as he ran. But Arawn wasn't flinching. The bullets weren't reaching him. Dean could hear gunfire from where Josh stood and realized with a sick feeling that the other hunter's shots weren't penetrating the seal either. He reached the circle and prepared for the electrical current sensation again as he passed through only this time he didn't feel the same sensation. What he did feel was ten times worse. It was like tremors were tearing his body apart limb from limb and his heart was about to explode. Even with all his might he couldn't push forward through it and fell back, staggering a few steps. _What the Hell was that?_ It dawned on him that was what his brother must have felt as he had tried to exit the circle. Then something far worse occurred to him.

He couldn't get to Sam.

"Finish it!" he yelled frantically at Alex, who had stopped reading after the first part to wait until they were all safely out before starting the second part.

Alex looked up at him wildly, not understanding why Sam couldn't get out like Dean and her brother had. "I can't!" she cried. "If I do it'll send Sam to Hell too!"

"Shit!" Dean cursed, realizing this was true. Arawn was walking steadily towards Sam, who seemed to have shaken off the effects of his two attempts to exit the circle and was backing away slowly. Sam raised his gun and fired, sending the beast growling to the eastern side of the circle with an arm up to protect itself.

"Reverse it then!" Dean yelled at Alex. A horrified look still on her face, she nodded quickly and started flipping the pages in the book. "Open the circle back up!"

Josh ran up to him with a confused look on his face. "My bullets don't go through and I can't get in!" he announced. Dean nodded briskly, figuring by the way Josh was shaking that he too had tried to get back in to help the younger Winchester.

Inside the circle, Sam's weapon clicked empty. He was out of ammo. Dean tried to toss his spare clip towards his brother but it simply bounced off the invisible shield and landed back at his feet.

Dean was out of options. He lunged again at the invisible wall only to feel the same excruciatingly painful but equally impenetrable force stop him short. Josh moved around the circle, firing at the beast from different angles, hoping one would miraculously work, but to no avail.

Dean could hear Alex now reciting more words in Gaelic. As he watched the scene inside the circle with dread, he prayed silently she could open this damn seal in time. He watched horrified as Arawn figured out Sam was out of bullets and stood up to his full height of seven feet again and started moving steadily towards the weaponless hunter. "Sam!" Dean cried again in frustration and near panic, feeling incredibly helpless. He lunged again at the unseen wall, once more staggering back in pain.

His vision went black for a few seconds but as it cleared, he looked up to see his brother taking a futile swing at the much bigger robed creature. Arawn roared and swung back, sending Sam sailing through the air to land hard against one of the stones. The Celtic God seemed to be fueled by its anger for it showed no signs of injury from all the silver bullets as it moved swiftly across the circle and again attacked its penned-in prey. Sam fought back hard but a few swipes from Arawn hit their mark and he was soon bleeding profusely from gashes across the chest and thigh.

"Hurry!" Dean screamed at Alex before lunging again frantically at the circle, unable to stand and watch his little brother being killed. Again - extreme pain followed by seconds of blackness. Why couldn't he get through? He had to try harder, just stomach the pain and push. He lunged again and then again and again, until his body was throbbing and his mind reeling in pain. He staggered forward to try another time, determined to save Sam or die trying, but suddenly found himself being held back by the shoulders. He spun to see what had him and took a swing at whatever it was, whatever was interfering with his desperate attempt to reach Sam.

"Dean! Stop!" Josh yelled in his ear, trying to calm him down. Dean's knees were weak from the repeated attempts to enter the circle and Josh was able to force him down onto them and hold him there, his arm wrapped around the Winchester's neck from behind. Dean struggled against the restraint but to no avail. He had dropped his gun during his last lunge at the seal, a fact Josh was extremely thankful for at this moment, and couldn't reach his spare in the chokehold he was currently in.

"Lexie! Hurry!" Josh called frantically to his sister, trying to keep the weakened hunter under control but also seeing Sam didn't have much time left. He knew he would be doing the same thing Dean was had it been Lexie in the circle getting pummeled by the beast but as soon as the spell was lifted, they would need Dean alive and kicking because removing the seal would also free Arawn. The elder Winchester would clearly have lunged at the seal until it killed him if he thought it was the only chance he had of helping his younger brother. Josh couldn't save Sam right now, but he could at least stop Dean from killing himself while Lex tried the spell approach.

Dean realized Alex was still reciting Gaelic words very quickly and calmed for an instant to get a look at the circle. Sam was struggling to get back on his feet after having been thrown again and had blood all down the front of his shirt and his pant leg. Dean let out a strangled cry, furious at being pinned down and mortified at what he was seeing happening to Sam right in front of him.

Alex didn't bother to answer either man when they yelled at her to hurry because Sam couldn't afford the interruption. She flipped to the spell she believed would lift the seal, despondent to find it was a much longer one than the previous. She read as quickly as she could, most of the words unfamiliar and the pronunciation difficult. Praying for Sam's sake her untrained Gaelic tongue wouldn't affect the spell's outcome, she read loudly, trying really hard not to be distracted by Josh and Dean wrestling in her peripheral.

"I'm done!" she yelled finally, and Josh instantly released Dean. In one smooth motion, Dean jumped to his feet and grabbed his gun from the forest floor, firing at Arawn, who now had Sam pinned against one of the stones in a chokehold much the way he had done to Dean the previous day. With Josh a split second behind him firing also, Dean was relieved briefly to see that the beast was reacting to their gunfire. It dropped Sam, who slumped to the ground at the foot of the stone, and it turned to face the two approaching hunters, fury spread across its face. In what seemed like a last act of defiance, it looked behind them towards Alex and let out a blood-curdling scream, turning its head upwards as it did so.

The book in Alex's hands suddenly burst into flames. She cried in alarm at the sudden heat, dropping the book to the ground before her. It disintegrated into ashes in seconds, gone before she could pat out the flames. She looked up to see Arawn turn and run from the continual onslaught of silver bullets Dean and Josh were dishing out. The God disappeared into the forest behind the stones with one last angry howl. This time, Alex thought thankfully, Dean didn't chase it. He simply dropped to his knees next to his brother's still form, grabbing at the younger man's jacket collar and trying to wake him up.

"Sam!" Dean cried, his voice cutting out to a hoarse whisper near the end of the word. "Sammy!"

Ignoring the pain starting to throb in her burnt hands, Alex made her way quickly over to the brothers, falling to her knees next to Dean. She watched with breath held as he checked for a pulse on his little brother's neck. Josh stood back behind them, gun ready and keeping his eyes on the woods in the direction Arawn had fled.

"I got a pulse," Dean breathed quietly, only vaguely aware of the girl sitting next to him. "He's alive," he added, his voice catching again, this time with relief. "Sammy?" He gently tapped Sam's face, trying to get a response. A few taps later, he got one. A small groan escaped from the bloodied, beaten hunter as he struggled back into consciousness.

"Dean?" he whispered as his eyes opened, his head still spinning.

"Hey, I'm here, I'm right here," he heard Dean answer, feeling his brother's hand on his chest. "You alright?"

Sam's vision was slowly clearing. "Yeah," he replied, managing to sound better than he felt. He started to sit up but was gently pushed back down. He hadn't noticed Alex sitting next to his brother and realized the hand on his chest was actually hers.

"Let him get up," Dean instructed politely, "It could be a head wound. He needs to stay awake."

"A head wound is the least of his problems, Dean," Alex told him softly, pulling Sam's shirt open to reveal numerous bleeding gashes on his chest. She was unscrewing a plastic water bottle filled with holy water that she had carried up in her jacket.

"Oh shit," Dean breathed in horror, the imminent supernatural side effects of Sam's injuries suddenly dawning on him. If he had found last night torturous, Sam was going to have it much, much worse. A few shoulder gashes had pretty much wiped him out and put him into an all-night delirium. Sam was sporting five times the gashes, counting the ones on his leg that he could see through the kid's jeans. They may not be deep but that didn't matter with this type of injury. This level of poison could easily kill him.

Alex seemed to be struggling with opening the bottle so Dean took it from her and leaned over his brother with it. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" his brother looked at him warily, not having put the pieces together yet in his groggy state, but not liking the apologetic tone of Dean's voice.

"I'm sorry, Sammy, but this is gonna hurt," he warned as he started pouring the holy water over Sam's chest. Sam gasped at the cold but didn't scream in agony as Dean had. Dean's face pulled into a frown. Not sure why Sam wasn't feeling the expected excruciating pain, Dean decided to think on the optimistic side and hope that they had caught it in time before any supernatural infection could start. He emptied the bottle, pouring it through Sam's jeans onto the thigh gashes also. Sam huffed a bit at the second pour and Dean magnanimously decided to resist making a joke about Sam wetting himself.

"Is he going to be able to walk?" Josh asked hopefully, anxious to get going before Arawn decided to come back for a second round. Their silver bullet stash was seriously depleted and the beast had seemed very much alive as it had run away a few minutes earlier.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam insisted, trying to sit up. "Well," he retracted weakly, lying back down against the stone, "maybe with some help."

Dean moved without hesitation to help his brother up, turning to Josh in the process. "What do you think? Should we lock down the circle anyway?" he asked, thinking out loud. "At least that way if he kills his last victim tonight those sons of bitches won't be able to send anyone to Hell in their place."

"Uh, not an option anymore, man," Josh informed him. Dean had clearly been so focused on Sam he hadn't seen the book go up in flames. "The bastard torched the book. It's gone."

"What?" Dean looked over at Alex, a bewildered look on his face, wondering how he could have missed that. She shrugged apologetically. He now stood with Sam's arm draped over his shoulder and Josh relinquished his guard position to tuck himself under Sam's other arm. The young hunter was certainly not in any shape to walk himself and they needed to get going... now.

They made their way back through the woods as quickly as they could, Dean keeping a close eye on Sam's temperature to see if he was succumbing to the effects of infected wounds. They reached the river without incident, Alex assuring them every few minutes that she didn't feel Arawn's presence at all anymore. Ten minutes further downriver, Dean suggested they stop and douse Sam's injuries with holy water again. There were no protests from either Alex or Josh, who had been told the whole truth of Dean's ordeal by his sister when they had been alone. Neither of them wanted Sam to suffer the same fate as Dean had. While they were stopped, Alex made her way over to the river and soaked her throbbing hands in the cool water. She fished in Josh's backpack, which she was now carrying, for some bandages, deciding that wrapping them in wet cloth would probably help.

"Sis! Your hands!" Josh cried as he came up behind her, shining his flashlight on her and reaching for her wrists to study her red and blistering palms. "Why didn't you say anything?" he chided in his usual big brother scolding voice.

"We didn't exactly have time, Josh," she defended weakly, letting him take over and wrap them properly.

Dean had emptied a full flask of holy water on Sam's wounds, still with no adverse reaction. "I think you dodged a bullet, Sam," he grinned with relief. Sam didn't look as pleased as he should have been, considering the alternative. "You doing alright?" Dean asked worriedly, checking Sam's pupils for uneven dilation.

Sam sighed, a familiar burdened look coming across his face. "Why couldn't I get out?" he asked quietly.

Dean shrugged. "Spell went wrong, dude. It happens." He looked towards the river's edge, where Josh was wrapping bandages around Alex's hands. "What happened to her?" he wondered out loud, not being within earshot of the pair by the river. He looked back to Sam and studied him in the moonlight for a moment as they sat side by side on the grass. His younger brother's face held a look of what Dean could only decipher as shame. His shoulders were slumped and he was staring at the ground, something obviously weighing heavily on him. "What's wrong?" Dean asked, not really feeling up to another Sammy-self-bashing conversation but willing to do anything right now after almost losing him.

Dean was rescued from his imminent chick flick moment by the Brentons making their way back from the river. "You okay?" he asked Alex, who simply nodded and managed an almost convincing smile. He and Josh pulled Sam to his feet and the four kept on moving in the dark, all hiding a constant nagging fear of Arawn showing up again while they were insufficiently armed and vulnerable.

Relief swept over them as the piled in the Impala back at the road. It was now almost nine o'clock and they made their way quickly back to the Celtic Lodge and Cabins. None of them had spoken much on the way down and fear that Sam was to succumb to a potentially fatal delirium had eased after the first hour or so. Dean pushed his AC/DC tape into the deck and relaxed behind the wheel.

"This is the worst hunt I've ever been on," Josh announced with a snort and a sigh from the back seat.

"Really?" Dean scoffed, a grin spreading across his face.

"Well, we're oh-for-three in battling the beast himself, all of us have been injured at least once, and we still have no clue how to kill the sucker," Josh summarized as he cleaned and re-bandaged his sister's burnt hands in the back seat, this time using the Winchester's well-stocked first aid kit.

"I'll admit, things aren't going too good," Dean had to agree, glancing over at his quiet brother in the passenger seat. They couldn't take Arawn head-on again; it was a miracle they had all survived the three run-ins so far. And on both the first and second rounds, it had been the inexperienced Brentons who had saved the Winchester asses. That was definitely an unfamiliar and undesirable change of pattern for Dean. Were he and Sam too distracted by all the other shit going on with regards to the war with the demons? Were they getting sloppy? Damnit, were they putting their friends' lives in jeopardy?

"I wouldn't say it's the worst," Alex argued with her brother, trying to be optimistic. "So far we're all still alive, looks like Sam escaped the whole poison thing, we killed one of the bad guys at least, and we met these two," she slapped the front car seats between Dean and Sam with the uninjured portion of her fingers.

"I just don't see how we're gonna finish this one off," Josh griped, saddened at his sister's apparent growing fondness for the Winchester brothers. Either way, this hunt would be over soon and both parties would be moving on. He doubted they would keep in touch, even though he did rather like these two. Hunters rarely did, and he and Alex never did.

"You leave that to us," Dean boasted, his usual cocky tone re-emerging. "We'll figure this one out. We Winchesters always find a way eventually." He winked at Alex in the rear view mirror. She rolled her eyes at him but the smile never left her face.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

The Impala thundered into the motel parking lot, pulling past the Bronco and around the back before coming to a stop in front of Cabin four. Dean hopped out and made his way quickly around to Sam's side, offering his help.

"I'm good, Dean, I swear, I can walk," Sam insisted, waving off his brother's outstretched arm.

Still not sure why Sam had not been affected by the God's poisonous slashes, Dean reluctantly stepped back, letting his brother manage on his own. They heard shouting from behind them and he turned to see Brody jogging over from the end of the row of motel rooms. "Shit," he breathed. "Get inside, dude; you're covered in blood."

Sam obeyed, ignoring Brody's call of "Mr. Hetfield! Jim!" and stepping quickly into the cabin and straight to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Brody stopped jogging when he reached the Impala, breathing heavily and putting his hands on his knees, the wide smile on his ruddy face aimed directly at Alex. Josh decided to follow Sam into the cabin since it was clear Brody didn't like him much.

Finally catching his breath, the teen stood up straight. "Hi Alex," he managed before turning to Dean. "I'm actually looking for you and Mr. Hetfield," he announced. "Or is it Mr. Winchester?"

Dean's back stiffened at the use of his real name. If their cover was blown, they would have to change digs. Since there were only a few motels in this small town which would make it easy for the Sheriff to find them at one, they would unfortunately have to resort to squatting until they could finish off Arawn. "What are you talking about, kid?" he demanded. "Spill."

"Well, the Sheriff came by today and he had pictures of you and your brother, only he said your name was Winchester and that you two were dangerous criminals, wanted for armed robbery." He looked more excited than scared. "Oh, don't worry," he added with an exaggerated wink, "I totally covered for you and told him I hadn't seen you." He looked over at Alex. "I figured if you're friends with Alex, then you can't be that bad, right?" The last word held the first hint of doubt Brody had shown, and it was accompanied by a slightly nervous look thrown back at Dean.

"Dangerous criminals?" Dean scoffed. "Of course not." He opened the Impala passenger door and dug around in the box stashed under Sam's seat for the appropriate ID. Standing back up, he smiled at Brody. "Listen kid, I'm gonna let you in on some top secret information, alright? You can't tell another soul."

Brody's eyes widened. He ran his fingers past his lips as if zipping them shut. "My lips are sealed, dude."

Dean flashed his 'Special Agent Robert Plant, FBI' badge, getting a smug satisfaction from the kid's impressed reaction. "Alex here is helping my partner and me with a case. We're not just trying to solve these strange murders, but we're investigating corruption on the local police force. Mainly the sheriff," he added, remembering Brody had claimed Deputy Bill to be his friend. "Now, this is a secret investigation that needs to be kept on the down low, capishe?"

Brody nodded furiously. "You can count on me, Special Agent Plant," he grinned.

"Uh, call me Dean. Part of the cover, you know."

"Okay, Dean." Brody turned to Alex. "You a fed, too?"

She laughed. "Uh, no Brody. I'm just a reporter. Just helping Agent Plant here. But, uh, please don't mention me or my cameraman to the Sheriff either, okay?"

"I would never," Brody replied indignantly.

"Well," Dean said quickly, "You seem like you've got stuff to talk about so I'm gonna leave you two alone." Ignoring the furious glare from Alex, Dean hopped up the step to the cabin door and let himself in quickly, snickering to himself at how mean he could actually be. He knocked on the bathroom door but didn't wait for Sam to reply before letting himself in. Sam was sitting on the edge of the tub, shirtless, with his head in his hands.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean asked his brother for the twentieth time since the fight at the circle.

Sam looked up at him and Dean realized instantly that his brother was hurting. Not the physical pain that Dean could easily remedy with bandages and the occasional suture needle, but the much harder to deal with patented Sammy emotional pain. The kind that physically hurt Dean to see. The kind he always felt so inept at fixing.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly, pushing the door shut behind him for some privacy. In a cramped bathroom with Sam half dressed would definitely not have been Dean's first choice of places to have this awkward conversation, but he would have to make do.

Sam looked back down at the floor. "Why couldn't I get out of the circle, Dean?" he asked his brother for the second time.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh. "Sam, I told you, a glitch in the spell. Lex probably read it wrong or something, mispronounced one word." What could Sam possibly be thinking that would be upsetting him so much?

"The spell was supposed to let humans out and keep demons, monsters, and supernatural villains in!" Sam raised his voice slightly. "Alex's words, remember, right out of the spellbook. You got out, Josh got out, I couldn't get out!"

"So what are you saying?" Dean demanded sternly. "That you're not human? Be reasonable, Sam! You've got the same DNA as me. The same blood!"

"But that's just it Dean!" Sam raised his voice back. "I don't have the same blood! I have demon blood in me!"

There, he had said it. His secret was out. He felt a huge relief for having let go of a secret that had been bothering him for almost a year and a half now but at the same time, he felt a renewed sense of dread at what his brother's reaction would be. He looked up sharply at Dean, studying the older man's face for a hint of either acceptance or rejection. All he got was confusion.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked him

"That night in Lawrence when Yellow-Eyes killed Mom," Sam explained more quietly. "He did something to me... in my crib."

"What did he do?" Dean's voice reeked of fear and dread and renewed anger towards Yellow-Eyes.

"He..." Sam almost lost his nerve but swallowed and continued. "He dropped some of his blood into my mouth," he explained. "I have demon blood in me. That's why I have these psychic powers. That's why he thought I would open the Hell's Gate and lead his demon army for him. That's why all of this is happening to our family. Because I have demon inside of me."

Dean was silent for a long moment, taking it all in, his face remaining skillfully blank. He started to shake his head in disbelief. "How do you know this?"

Sam shrugged. "He showed me in a dream when I was in Cold Oaks with the other psychic kids."

"In Cold Oaks?" Dean repeated incredulously. "You mean over a year ago? You've known about this all this time and I'm just hearing about it now?"

Sam returned his gaze to the crack in the floor tile at his feet. "I was ashamed. I didn't want you to know, I…" He let the sentence trail off.

"What, you think I'm gonna turn on you 'cause Yellow-Eyes put a little spice in your baby formula!?" Dean demanded. "Give me some credit Sam! I'm your _brother_! We're in this together, no matter what!" He ran his hand down his face. "But you've gotta be straight with me. Seriously, is there anything else I should know?"

Sam looked back up at Dean, silently thanking his brother for loving him despite what he had just been told. "Well, I think I'm immune to Arawn's poison," he shrugged. "There's no way I get this many cuts and feel nothing when it affected you so badly."

Dean sat down on the closed toilet seat, leaning his elbows on his knees and running his hands through his hair. "Like in River Grove," he said, remembering how Sam had been immune to the mysterious demonic infection that had wiped out almost the entire town. He sighed, anxious to shelf this conversation for later. "Well," he turned to his brother with a grin, pointing to the slash marks on his chest that needed bandaged. "You want me to patch you up or see if I can get Alex to do it for you?"

Sam snorted a laugh at his brother's one track mind but decided to play along. "Which do you think dude?"

Alex didn't need asked to help Sam out with his wounds. She stormed into the cabin, almost slamming the door behind her, her angry eyes searching for Dean. The sight of Sam emerging gingerly from the bathroom, shirtless and covered in gashes, was enough to make her forget about the chewing out she was about to give his older brother for his little joke, at least for the time being.

"Sit down," she ordered, taking Sam's arm and giving a reproachful glance towards the other two men. "Jesus guys, he needs cleaned up," she scolded. She went to the bathroom and started running warm water and soaking towels.

Dean moved over toward Josh, who was sitting quietly at the table. He was aware the conversation with Sam in the bathroom had become heated and had not been overly quiet. "You hear that?" he asked in a low voice, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bathroom.

Josh shrugged apologetically. "The doors are hollow, Bro," he admitted. Dean nodded acknowledgement, trying to think of what to say, but Josh let him off the hook. "It doesn't make a difference to me either," he offered, letting Dean know he wasn't going to judge Sam based on what he had just overheard.

Upon hearing most of the conversation between the two brothers in the bathroom, Sam's lines of questioning from the previous night suddenly made a lot more sense to Josh. He hadn't been concerned about Alex going evil; he had been talking about himself. _Poor kid._ With all that self-doubt on top of living a hunter's life and whatever other crap these two were dealing with, Josh was surprised Sam was faring as well as he was. Still, demon blood. Pretty scary.

"So, Alex," Dean teased as the girl cleaned Sam's wounds one last time with holy water before bandaging them up. "Brody sweep you off your feet yet?"

Alex glared at him. "I had to agree to go to his high school fall dance with him this weekend!" she spat. "I couldn't risk pissing him off and him turning _your_ ass in!"

Dean fell into a fit of laughter picturing the twenty-five year old blonde escorting the boasting Brody to a teenage dance. He was grateful for her sacrifice but couldn't stop himself from laughing at her expense. "Don't worry," he assured her between bursts of laughter, "You'll be long gone by then."

Sam turned to his brother, deciding to change the subject before Alex threw something at him. "You think so? You got a plan to waste this sucker?"

Dean managed to stop laughing and grew serious again. "I'm still working on it," he admitted.

"What are our options at this point?" Josh asked. He always found it easier to think if he talked things through.

"Well, we can't seem to kill the thing with any of the usual weapons," Sam answered through gritted teeth, his hands in the air as Alex wrapped his chest with a white bandage. "And locking it in Hell is probably out with the spell book being destroyed."

"Sorry," Alex muttered, half in response to Sam's wince, half for her role in the book getting burnt to a crisp.

"Not your fault, Sis," Josh fired at her before going back to his musings.

They tossed around a few ideas, none of which were realistic or even remotely likely to work. Much to Dean's relief, Sam never suggested using his demonic powers.

_Demonic_ powers. He could actually call them that, now that they knew the source.

Alex finished bandaging Sam's chest and looked at his pant leg. "Well" she teased, "either you bandage those yourself or you drop your pants."

Sam caught Dean's eye, noting the hidden worry and tenseness that was still evident after his bathroom confession. Mostly in an effort to give his brother something to smile at, he grinned back at Alex. "So you want to get me outta my pants, huh?"

She blushed, having not expected Sam to return the tease. Josh cleared his throat loudly from his seat at the table. "Her big brother's sitting right here, dude! I'd expect that from him…" he gestured towards Dean.

Dean looked up innocently. "Hey! Don't look at me!" he laughed. "The kid's got a mind of his own!"

The room fell silent as Alex worked on Sam and Dean managed to keep his brave face on for as long as he could - all of five minutes. He stood up sharply and headed towards the door. "I need some fresh air," he lied, "Helps me think. We need to come up with a plan, and fast."

What he really needed was to go outside for some privacy to call Bobby. The older mechanic slash hunter had become a dependable rock to lean on for Dean in the last year and a half. Though he had only ever admitted it under the strain of urgent situations, Bobby was like a father to Dean. A father very different from his actual one. He didn't feel any pressure or driving need to impress Bobby or prove his worth to him like he always had with John Winchester. Bobby just loved him, for no apparent reason. Though it had never been said outright, and likely never would be, Dean didn't have any doubts that Bobby thought of him as a son. And it was a good feeling to have, someone loving you unconditionally like that, even though there was no blood obligation to do so. The bond between them had strengthened since John had passed away, and Dean found himself relying on Bobby more and more. With this new information about Sam tumbling around in his head, Dean just needed to hear the mechanic's voice of reason. He closed the motel door behind him and walked across the gravel yard towards the road edge, where there stood an old, abandoned phone booth. He leaned up against it and pulled out his phone to call Bobby.

"_Yeah?"_ The mechanic's gruff voice never sounded welcoming when it answered a call. Dean smiled to himself, knowing the truth to be otherwise.

"Hey Bobby," he greeted. "It's me."

"_How're things going over there in Indiana?"_

Dean filled him in on the recent goings on, ignoring the usual grumblings and scoldings about pig-headed moves and involving untrained civilians. He told him about Sam's revelation, a little worried himself about the older man's reaction. Sam and Bobby didn't have the same relationship that Dean and Bobby had. Bobby loved Sam and vice versa, but there wasn't the dependence on each other or the unspoken depth of feeling that Dean and Bobby shared. But Bobby was as loyal as a dog, probably even more so, and would defend Sam to the end just as quickly as he would Dean.

"_Sam's his own person, Dean. He's as stubborn and pigheaded as your old man. He ain't gonna let a drop of demon blood make him do anything he don't want to do."_

"Yeah, I know," Dean replied, relieved the wise older hunter believed in Sam also.

"_Oh, and I found out some more about your Celtic God,"_ Bobby offered.

"Yeah?"

"_Yeah, when it leaves the guardian's property, it goes in disguise, usually as a human."_

"We already know that, Bobby," Dean said, rather impatiently.

"_Well, don't blow your load yet, boy! I'm not finished!"_ Bobby retorted, just as impatiently. _"When he travels in this disguise, he takes on its physical properties. He may be a particularly strong human, but he's a human all the same."_

"Bobby!" Dean exclaimed, an idea coming to him. "Did I ever tell you you're awesome? I gotta go!" He flipped his phone closed and headed quickly back towards the cabin.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_I know Dean found out about the blood in a different way on the canon show but that hadn't happened yet when I wrote this and this was what I came up with. Hope you enjoyed my version :-) _


	14. the Kid Will be Devastated

**Chapter 14 -** **The Kid Will Be Devastated**

"I tell you, Sam, this is like shooting at a needle in a haystack!" Dean griped as they walked through the Borne town park together.

Sam huffed, trying his hardest to ignore Dean's crabbiness. "It's looking."

"Huh?" Dean gave him a blank look.

"_Looking_ for a needle in a haystack," Sam explained, wishing he had never made the correction in the first place. "Not shooting at one."

"Well, excuse me Mr. Webster," Dean snarked back.

"Dean, this was your idea. What's got your panties in a twist, huh? It's the best chance we have of finding Arawn tonight."

"Yeah, well, howcome Bodhi and his sister get the bar and we get the empty park, the cold dark bridge, and the freaking deserted convenience store?"

Sam shook his head. His brother was in a bad mood and Dean tended to gripe continuously when he was in a bad mood. Sam knew it was because Dean was trying to come to terms with Sam's revelation about his demon blood but he also knew his brother wouldn't admit to it bothering him as much as it did. Instead he would pretend the weather was bothering him and the boredom was bothering him and the bad coffee was bothering him, anything except the truth that his brother having demon blood inside him was bothering him.

There was nothing Sam could say that would placate Dean at this point. He knew his brother's moods well enough to know he may as well just play along until it passed, until Dean managed to stow his fear of Sam 'going Vader' somewhere deep enough that it wouldn't show anymore. "Too many people for us to be at the bar," he reminded Dean. "If the Sheriff's been showing our mug shots around town like he did to Brody, we don't want someone to put two and two together."

"Huh, not frigging likely in this stupid ass town," Dean groused. Upon hearing Bobby's latest intel, he had realized that if Arawn was going to stick to his usual pattern, then he would be out and about tonight - or tomorrow night at the latest - looking for someone with vengeance on the brain. Studying the map of the town again, Dean had pieced together a pattern.

The rape victim who had wished Blake Lunden dead had been approached by a girl in the park. The park was just across the street from the southwest corner of the McCulloch property. Alex had mentioned that she and Josh had realized there was a hunt in this town because they had stopped at that same 7-11 store for drinks on their road trip and Alex had felt Arawn's presence. That had happened the night before Blake Lunden had been killed and the convenience store was right next to the park.

Kevin Waldor had been approached in McCulloch's Pub which was right next to the graveyard in the northwest corner of the McCulloch property. The teenager Stephen, who had wished revenge on the high school bully, had been sitting under the highway overpass that spans the road in front of the 7-11.

So it seemed Arawn never strayed far from the McCulloch's lands to find his revenge-seekers. If Bobby was right and the God was vulnerable when he left the property, then it made sense he wouldn't want to go too far. The pub, the park, the convenience store, and the overpass were all right next to the McCulloch property. The rest of the property boundary was empty country road or river and wilderness so the chances were that he would go fishing in one of these four places. Since the pub was a couple of miles from the other three locations, it had been decided that they should split up. There was no way Dean was letting Sam go off without him and Josh had insisted on staying close to his sister so the Winchesters were stuck scoping out the park, the convenience store, and the overpass for any signs of chatty strangers while the Brentons got to hang out and play pool while keeping their warm, indoor blue-as-fuck eyes on the pub patrons, as Dean had so eloquently griped for the past hour.

Dean looked back towards Sam. "You're still limping, dude," he stated the obvious. Sam had reluctantly allowed Dean to put a couple of sutures in the lowest of the three slashes in his thigh, as it had been deeper and less likely to heal by itself. "Look, you take the convenience store, I'll take the park patrol," he offered, thinking Sam would be better off loitering around the warm, lit shop than out walking back and forth through the park and under the overpass.

Another hour passed and Dean was getting cold and bored as he wandered around the park, seeing very few people. He sat down on a park bench in front of the swings for a spell, hands in his jacket pocket. Hearing a noise on the path, he looked up to see Alex coming towards him. "You guys having any luck?" she called to him as she approached.

"Nada, you?" he replied as she sat down next to him.

"Nothing. There's hardly anybody in the bar. It is Monday night, after all. I figured I'd come keep you company for a while."

Dean grunted his approval, glad for the company. "I'm thinking there's a chance we missed him," he admitted. "We didn't get here until after ten o'clock."

They chatted for a while about the case and how Sam's leg was holding up and where they would each head after the hunt was over.

"Josh filled me in on what Sam told you in the bathroom," she said suddenly, throwing Dean off guard.

"I was hoping he would keep that to himself," Dean replied, disappointed but not overly surprised.

"He will, don't worry," she assured him. "But not from me, he tells me everything. Family, you know. We don't keep secrets."

Dean let out a disgruntled"Hmphh," wishing he could say the same for his family.

"Sam also told me a lot of stuff that's been going on with you guys, you know, on the walk up to the circle earlier today."

Dean looked at her sharply. "He did?" he asked, not really believing it, but curious all the same as to how much she though 'a lot of stuff' was. He had been walking ahead with Josh most of the hike while the younger siblings trailed behind, deep in conversation. It hadn't occurred to him to wonder what they had been talking about.

"He told me the yellow-eyed demon came for him when he was six months old and killed your mother that night. He told me your father was obsessed with revenge and dragged you two into this life of hunting and that Sam left it to go to Stanford and have a normal life."

Dean was slightly dumbstruck and caught off guard. Sammy had indeed spilled the proverbial family beams to an outsider. Granted, a hot one, but an outsider just the same. "Well, you don't know the half of it," he deflected politely.

She gave a little snort and tapped his knee with her bandaged hand. "I know enough to see that he was wrong. That you're the one who got the short end of the stick."

"What do you mean?" Dean ventured.

"This whole thing, the yellow-eyed demon killing your mom, your dad being obsessed with killing it, you never having a home, getting attacked and hunted by demons and cops at the same time..." She waved her hand in a circle in the air before her to illustrate that she meant every miserable part of life as a Winchester. "This is all Sam's fault. Maybe not his fault directly, but it all happened because of him. He's the one with demon blood." She put her hand up to stop Dean from interrupting. "I'm just saying," she continued, "that I don't think it was fair of him to try and leave it all behind, leave you and your dad living in his mess while he went off and lived some apple pie life at Stanford."

"Sam and my dad had their differences," Dean defended his brother. "It wasn't the life Sam wanted. I chose to stay."

"It's my fault Josh and I have to live the way we do," Alex said, giving Dean a pained look. "So if I saw an opening out of it that _didn't_ include him, I wouldn't even consider taking it. I mean, how selfish would that be?"

Dean had never looked at Sam's leaving for college from that perspective. Sure, it been a personal abandonment and had hurt Dean deeply, but was never a cop-out. "You don't understand," he said without anger. He couldn't blame her for not seeing the whole picture, after all, Sam had probably explained everything painting himself as the bad guy. "I've cost Sam a lot, too."

She gave him a sympathetic look." I don't believe that for a second. You'd do anything for him. I've seen it."

"My dad," he said in barely more than a whisper. "My dad died to save me. I cost Sam his father."

She was quiet for a moment before she reached over and took his hand. "That wasn't your fault."

Dean snorted, surprised by her outwardly comforting gesture. "No more than it was Sam's fault our mother was killed," he said, believing he had made his point.

"No, I mean maybe your father didn't die for you."

Dean looked up at her sharply. What the hell would she know about that?

"Sam said your father asked you to look out for him, to save him. He and Sam didn't exactly get along. Your father probably knew he wasn't going to be able to keep an eye on him, so he would have to keep you around to do it for him. Maybe he actually died to save Sam."

Dean was getting agitated. Sam needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. This wasn't the first time his younger brother had blabbed some private family issues looking for a shoulder to cry on. Dean remembered meeting Meg in Chicago, a demon no less, who had some very choice words to say about how he had been treating his little brother. He admitted, the last point Alex had made had crossed his mind before but even if it was true, it still wasn't his brother's fault.

"I'm sorry," Alex pulled her hand away. "I totally overstepped there. It's not that I don't like Sam, I do, I really do," she said apologetically. "I just think you let yourself get overlooked. You're pretty special too, you know." She smiled. "And you don't need any psychic mojo to make you special."

"It's alright." Dean forgave her though his heart was in a knot. She hadn't meant any harm, just speaking her mind. "So what else did my blabbermouth brother tell you?"

"He told me he died and you sold your soul for him and went to Hell and now you're back you won't talk about it and you're all moody and drink too much," she offered, giving an apologetic shrug at her bluntness.

Dean wanted to jump off the park bench with fury at his brother but managed to keep his cool and remain still. "He did?" was all he managed to say through clenched teeth and disbelief.

"He also told me not to mention it to you because you would go all silent and angry on me, but I figured I'd risk it anyway."

Dean was silent. And angry. Hell was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"Don't worry," Alex said quietly, "I'm not gonna ask you about it. Josh always thinks talking about my demon will help take all the bad feelings away. The fear, the hurt, the guilt... But he just doesn't understand. I don't want to talk about it." She looked up at Dean a guilty look on her face. "I know this is going to sound so heartless, but part of me wishes that just once, Josh would have something evil stalking him, that he would know what it's like to live in constant fear and be the reason people he cared about are hurt or killed, then he'd see just how little _he_ wants to talk about it."

She looked at Dean again, this time catching his gaze. "I'm a terrible person for even thinking that, aren't I?"

"No, uh, not at all. You wouldn't actually do it. It's just uh, human nature, I guess," he replied, distracted by his thoights.

"Don't you?"

"Don't I what?"

"Don't you ever wish, even for a second, that Sam could know what it was like to be in Hell? That he could experience the same pain and suffering you did? That would get him off your case. Then he'd understand."

Dean held her gaze for a moment, not sure how to respond. "Hold on a second," he said, holding up his finger as he pulled out his phone and hit a speed dial button. "I need to call my brother, to check in." He waited while it rang on the other end. "Hey, where are you?...You okay?...No, we're fine….Look I'll talk to you later." He hung up and reached into his inner pocket to put the phone away.

"Do I wish Sam knew what it was like to be in Hell?" he repeated Alex's question to her slowly, turning to face her as he did so. "Not for a second. I wouldn't wish a stubbed toe on my little brother. Ever. And you know what? Neither would Alex." With one swift motion he pulled a nine inch blade from his jacket pocket and plunged it into the heart of the girl sitting next to him. She gasped and clutched at the knife, looking wildly at Dean.

"Dean!" she pleaded, her voice raspy. "What have you done? Dean, it's me, Alex. Please!" She slipped off the bench and sank to her knees on the park pathway, still clutching the knife in her chest.

"Alex, my ass!" Dean's voice turned cold as he spoke, now standing over the bleeding blonde girl. "You tried to get me to wish revenge on my own brother for something he had no control over! I hope you rot in Hell you son of a bitch."

Alex's face looked up at him, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She began to laugh, a deep, slow, and thoroughly evil laugh. "I practically rule in Hell you imbecile! Ahh, you were a long shot anyway," she taunted. "Not the vengeful type. I knew I should have gone for your precious Sammy. There's a huge thirst for revenge frothing in that one. It would have been so easy."

Dean reached for the knife in her chest, pulled it out, and thrust it in again, this time two inches to the left. Hopefully this would finish the job without him having to listen to any more of the goading bullshit. He heard a gasp and looked up to see Sam rushing over.

"Dean!" his brother cried, seeing Alex bleeding on the ground, Dean's hands still on the knife. "What did you do?"

"It's Arawn," Dean explained, standing up.

"Sam?" Alex pleaded, looking at him with terrified eyes. She was now lying on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth and pouring from the knife wound, pooling on the concrete pathway beneath her. "Sam, help me, please," she gasped, her voice faint and mixed with a slight gargle of blood in her throat.

Sam looked wildly from Alex to Dean. "Are you sure?" he asked his brother, not convinced. "She just called me and asked if you were okay because you were acting a bit weird."

"Then that was the real one that called you," Dean said confidently. "Because this bitch is a dude." He aimed a kick at Alex at their feet and they both watched her eyes close and her breathing stop, her body going still.

Sam pulled out his phone and dialed Alex's number, speaking his thoughts out loud as he did so. "It's okay, if you're wrong, it's not your fault," he said to Dean, panicking over the guilt his brother would feel if he had made a mistake. "If it's her, we'll just burn the body and never tell anyone. Josh never has to know it was you."

Dean looked at his brother in horror, not believing the words that were coming out of Sam's mouth.

"Alex? Is that you?" Sam was speaking into his phone now. "Oh, thank God!... Long story….Yeah we got him, Arawn's dead….Here in the park….Well, uh, you may not want to come….Okay, fine….I guess you'll see when you get here…. See you in a few." He hung up and looked at Dean, relief showing all over his face. "You're right, that's a fake." He pointed to the dead girl at their feet.

"I know I'm right! Jesus Sammy, you have that little faith in me now?" Dean accused.

"Of course not, it's just... it's kind of hard to tell," he pointed again at Arawn's body on the ground before them, still looking exactly like Alex, right down to the clothes and the bandaged hands.

"Don't you think I would've made doubly sure before I stabbed her?" Dean pressed. "And what the Hell... if I actually had killed an innocent girl by mistake, would you have seriously just acted like nothing happened to her brother? Like you didn't know where his sister was? We're friends with the dude for crying out loud!"

Sam's voice rose to its higher pitch, the pitch it only reached when he was angry or frustrated, mostly with Dean. "Yes! For you, yes! I would have done or said anything! I know you've been through a lot recently Dean, and I really don't think you could handle an innocent girl's death on your conscience right now, so if you had been wrong, and it made it any easier not having to deal with a pissed off surfer dude trying to kill you, then yes! I would have lied to him. And no, I don't doubt you, but we've all made mistakes. Made bad calls that cost somebody something. All of us. I've told you before, Dean. I wish you would get it through your thick skull - there's _nothing_ I wouldn't do for you."

They were interrupted by movement at their feet. Alex's body began to change, slowly returning to its natural form, the seven foot tall figure of Arawn. It stayed like that for a few seconds then began to disintegrate, turning to dust until all that was left of the two thousand year old god was a pile of ashes on the park walkway. It was that moment that the Bronco pulled up at the edge of the park and the Brentons came over to see for themselves.

Josh looked down at the pile of dust. "Well, that's anticlimactic. Kind of disappointing, don't you think?"

Dean managed a laugh. "You just missed it, dude. You would definitely not have thought so."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

"I can't believe you stabbed me," Alex repeated, still trying to picture Dean thrusting a nine inch blade into her heart. "Part of me wishes I had seen it but the other part thinks it would have been way too creepy," she admitted.

"It was very creepy," Sam confirmed.

"What if you'd been wrong?" She turned to Dean with an amused frown. "How did you know it wasn't me?"

"Well," Dean grinned, "I asked it if it wanted to make out and it said no. Had to be a dude."

Alex punched his arm with a laugh. "Well, I for one am glad this hunt is over," she joked. "That way I won't have to put up with your overinflated ego anymore."

"The hunt's not over yet, sweetheart," he informed her in a patronizing voice.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "You killed him. Or, rather, you killed me, but either way, Arawn's gone, isn't he?"

"Ah, amateurs," he teased. "The Sheriff still has three kidnapped bodysnatching victims locked up in his basement or somewhere. We still need to rescue them. Hunt's not over yet."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It was just after two o'clock in the morning when the state police cruisers from Fort Worth showed up at the Darius residence with lights flashing. The four friends watched with satisfaction from their hidden vantage point in the nearby woods as the Sheriff and the librarian were led from the house in handcuffs. Three bewildered people, the two young men and one girl that the Sheriff had taken prisoner, were ushered gently into another state cruiser with flashing lights.

"Looks like old Man McCulloch and his psychotic spawn are going to spend the rest of their days in a federal prison," Dean whispered with satisfaction. When they had found the three hostages bound and gagged in the hidden room in the McCulloch house, he had wanted to free them right away, even if it meant having to shoot the Sheriff and the librarian later. But Sam, again becoming the familiar, caring and peace-loving soul Dean knew and loved, had wisely suggested they just make an anonymous call to the State police and kill two birds with one stone. Let the police rescue the prisoners and arrest the bad guys. After all, they were human and would eventually die in prison without Arawn to pull a body switch for them.

Suddenly there were shouts from the yard and the hunters all strained to see what was going on. Benjamin Darius was making a run for it! Being unexpectedly strong, he had broken free from the two guards at his side and was running for the trees. A barrage of shots rang out and Darius fell to the ground. The librarian screamed from where she was being restrained by two struggling officers. Several police personnel made their way over to the Sheriff, one stooping to take a pulse, shaking his head a few seconds later. "He's gone."

"Oh, what a moron," Josh breathed, horrified but unable to take his eyes off the scene. "He probably wouldn't have even gone away for life. He's only like thirtysomething."

"He doesn't know Arawn's dead," Sam pointed out quietly. "He probably figured he could grab somebody and hide out at the circle and switch bodies within a day or two. Then he'd be free and clear with a new ID."

"Well, I'll bet he's in Hell now," Alex whispered, sounding almost vicious. "I hope he rots there for eternity. And I hope all the people he's sent there over the years get their go at him."

Dean gave her a quick look, reminding himself that she didn't actually know about his time in Hell; that had been the 'fake' Alex, otherwise known as Arawn.

"Well," he told her, "Now the hunt is officially over."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It was almost twelve the next day when the Impala pulled up next to the Bronco in front of the end motel room door of the Celtic Lodge and Cabins. The Bronco's trunk door was open and Josh was throwing a duffel bag into the already full trunk.

"That's what you get for traveling with a chick," Dean teased as he got out, eyeing the full trunk and checking to make sure Alex was not within earshot. "You guys leaving now?" he asked, leaning against the Impala hood.

"Yeah, Lex wants to sneak out before Brody gets off school."

Dean couldn't help having another chuckle at Alex's predicament. She was coming out of the motel room carrying a backpack and gave him a sharp glare. "The kid will be devastated," Dean called over to her.

"He'll get over it," she defended. "It'll – what was it? – make him a man, right?"

Dean shot a reproachful glance at Josh, who shrugged apologetically for ratting Dean out on his comments in the diner yesterday. "So you guys headed back to Dayton?" he ventured, changing the subject.

"Yeah. I should get back to work. If I'm not fired that is."

"Yeah, but if you are fired," Alex came over to stand with them, having tossed her backpack into the SUV and closed the trunk, "then you promised we can go to Albuquerque."

"What's in Albuquerque?" Dean asked.

Josh rolled his eyes. "A hot air balloon festival."

Alex slapped him on the shoulder and frowned.

Sam looked interested. "Oh really? I heard about that. It's the biggest one in the world; they have it every October. There are like over seven hundred balloons in the air at the same time."

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

"How about you guys?" Josh asked.

"Sam found a potential gig in Pennsylvania," Dean supplied. "Possible vampire. And it's Oktoberfest," he added with a knowing wink.

Josh laughed. "I'm tempted to come with you and let the kids here have their fun in New Mexico."

"Hey, if you're heading out now, you're gonna be around Dayton by nightfall," Alex exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "There's a hunter-friendly motel just outside the city with a pretty cool bar next door, why don't we meet up? We totally need to celebrate. After all, it's not every day you get take down a God and the town sheriff in the same night." She wasn't ready to say goodbye to the Winchester boys just yet. She found Dayton to be one of the most boring cities she and Josh had lived in, which was the reason she was constantly pressuring him to go on road trips.

"What does it mean if a motel is 'hunter-friendly'?" Dean asked skeptically, not wanting to let on that he and Sam preferred to skip the company of other hunters unless Bobby cleared them first. Some of the less open-minded ones didn't take too kindly to Sam's psychic abilities and none of them were overly forgiving about the opening of the Hell's Gate.

"Cheap," Alex shrugged.

"We really need to get to Pennsylvania," Dean said apologetically, not one for sticking around and socializing after a hunt. Make your good-byes short and sweet and get them over with as soon as you can was his usual routine, and he hated straying from his routine.

"Well, actually Dean, I talked to the local cops and they're not expecting us until tomorrow," Sam offered, ignoring the '_Et tu Brute?_' look he was getting from his brother.

"Awesome, Bro, we'll see you there then," Josh slapped Dean's shoulder and opened the Bronco's driver's door, not giving the elder brother time to think up any more excuses. "Bar's called Buster's or Dexter's or something like that."

"It's Jester's," Alex laughed, giving the Winchesters a quick wave and going around to the passenger side of the SUV, shouting a tease to her brother about Alzheimer's kicking in since he was turning thirty next month. The brothers could hear Pink Floyd's _Hey You _floating out of Josh's open window as the Brentons pulled out of the gravel lot.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Just one more chapter coming (tomorrow, hopefully) to wrap this story up but there is a sequel that I will start posting right away. This was the first story I ever wrote and I like to think I improved by the second – more action, a faster pace, higher stakes, and a lot more Dean!whumpage. It is my version of how & why Sam took his first drink of demon-blood. Cas, Bobby, and Ruby are all there too._


	15. Stay Gold Ponyboy

_This chapter is actually just a bit of fun before it sets up for the sequel... Hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 15 – Stay Gold, Ponyboy**

Dean was still grumbling as they walked from the motel to the bar next door. Alex hadn't been kidding when she had said the motel was cheap, though sleazy and dilapidated would have been more fitting descriptions, even by Winchester standards. "I still don't understand why you agreed to this," he scolded his younger brother. "Hunt's over, we spilt. We don't meet up for drinks."

Sam used his years of practice to ignore his brother's griping, knowing it was coming more from Dean's lack of sleep of late than any real resentment to having a night off. He looked up as a familiar blue Bronco pulled into the parking lot of the bar and Josh and Alex got out, heading towards the bar door. Dean, who had been tying his shoelace, hadn't spotted them. Sam laughed. "Oh man, you're in trouble tonight Dean."

"What? What for?" Dean asked, standing up and following Sam's gaze to the bar door just in time to see Josh and Alex step inside.

"Oh crap," he mumbled, seeing what his brother had been referring to. Alex was wearing a short skirt and knee high boots. "Just freaking kill me now." God, he did like those knee high boots on a girl and she sure as hell had the legs for it.

Sam snickered, knowing Dean would refrain from making any moves on the blonde tonight but that outfit wouldn't make it easy on him. As much slack as Sam gave his brother for mistreating women, he had to admit, his brother only made plays for chicks he barely knew, chicks that wouldn't expect anything more than a one night stand. Once he had spent any measure of time with a girl, Dean was actually quite a gentleman. Alex had the added deterrent of having her older brother around so was no doubt safe from his brother's womanizing ways by this point.

As they entered the bar, Alex and Josh were just settling in at a table. Alex spotted them and, Dean thought with surprise, almost looked annoyed for a split second. This was explained by her brother a moment later when he noticed them also and turned to the girl with his hand out.

"I told you they'd show; pay up Sis!" he grinned.

"You need to curb that gambling habit of yours!" Dean grinned, giving Josh a quick handshake and Alex an equally quick but much more subtle once over as he smiled 'hello' to her.

"Why? I only ever lose to you!" Josh grinned, pocketing the twenty his sister slapped in his hand. "She thought you guys would bail, hunters being who they are and all."

"And miss the opportunity to kick your ass some more at pool, GQ?" Dean challenged, throwing his coat at Sam to look after, much to his little brother's annoyance.

"You're on," Josh grinned back, ignoring the dig at his cleaned up, more dressed look. The Winchesters were dressed the same way they always dressed – jeans and flannel. Within seconds, the elder pair were headed off towards the pool tables.

"Looks like it's you and me, Sammy," Alex grinned.

"Uh, it's Sam, please," Sam corrected politely. "So did your brother lose his job?"

She took no offense at the name request as she answered with a regretful sigh. "Yeah. I mean, he _was_ gone for a week. We never know when a hunt will pop up."

"You don't look for them?" Sam asked.

"Nope, not usually." She tapped her temple. "They kinda find us most of the time. But hey," she shrugged as she glanced over at her brother and Dean, who was effortlessly and expertly twirling a pool cue and taunting Joshua about his lame break. "He's the one that always insists on sticking around to finish the troublemaker off. He never walks away."

It didn't take Dean long to beat Josh at the first game. Swallowing the humiliation he had been dealt again by the seemingly unbeatable hunter, Josh made his way back to their table while Dean took on another challenger, a two-hundred pound well-inked biker. Slumping into his seat, Josh flagged a waitress over.

"You play pool, Junior?" he turned to Sam.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I can hold my own," he said modestly. "Dean's better though," he added, glancing up to make sure his brother wasn't within earshot of the compliment. He found Josh's constant use of nicknames amusing. Dean also had a tendency of whipping up smart ass nicknames, but not like this guy. Over the past three days, Sam could recall Josh actually calling him 'Sam' no more than a couple of times. Must be a surfer thing.

"Well, It looks like the band's gonna be a while before they start so I'm gonna drop some coin in the jukebox," Alex announced, standing up. "Four shots of whisky, please," she said to the waitress who was just reaching the table. "On his tab," she pointed to her brother with a cheeky grin as she walked away.

"Uh oh." Josh raised his eyebrows at his sister's order. "Not a good sign. Can you get us three beers also?" he added to the waitress. Turning to Sam his face grew serious. "I was actually hoping I'd get a chance to talk to you," he said, leaning back in his chair. "About what I said in the diner yesterday morning, I uh..." he was trying to find the right words. "Look, I really didn't mean anything bad, I didn't know about the uh, the…"

"The demon thing?" Sam supplied.

"Yeah, that," Josh was thankful for the help. "I just want to say that it doesn't make a difference as to who you are. That's one hundred percent your choice. You're a good guy, shit, you're a better man than me. Look at what you do for a living. I'm just saying, you should work on not letting it cause you to doubt yourself."

Sam listened thoughtfully, trying to suppress a sudden smile. Alex had been right, her brother sure did like to talk about 'feelings and shit' as she had put it, but Sam was grateful for what the guy was saying. He seemed sincere and he had a point.

"So what psychic powers _do_ you have?" Josh asked keenly, leaning forward in his chair.

"What do you mean?" Sam's worry meter spiked. Surely Dean hadn't mentioned Sam's recent abilities. Exorcising demons with his mind would be hard for anyone to accept and next to becoming a monster, Sam's biggest fear was being thought of as one.

"You mentioned yourself and a bunch of other psychic kids," Josh led.

"Oh, yeah." Sam was relieved. "Well, it started three or four years ago when I would have these nightmares. Of people dying. Then they would sorta... come true."

Josh looked at Sam thoughtfully but paused while the waitress delivered their drinks. "Death visions, huh? That couldn't have been fun," he said with honest sympathy after she had gone. "Hmm. Like Fiver."

Sam snorted, hoping that nickname wouldn't stick. He had never thought about the comparison before, but there were some strong similarities between himself and the rabbit named Fiver from Watership Down.

"And look," Josh laughed as Dean walked up to the table. "Here comes Hazel."

"Hazel?" Dean looked confused.

"Watership Down, bro. The big brother rabbit."

"Water what? Rabbit?" Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Whatever; it's your turn to rack."

"You got the table back already? Nice," Josh said approvingly, jumping up. "Now if that brunette comes back, promise me you'll try not to humiliate me too much," he said as he headed off to set the table for the next game.

Dean grinned at the shots of whisky on the table, picking one up and downing it, trying hard not to wince as he picked up his beer and smiled at Sam. He almost looked relaxed, Sam thought to himself with surprise. It had been a long time, longer than he had realized, since he had seen his brother's face without the tense lines of worry.

"You look happy," he commented.

Dean gave a little snort. "You drunk, Sammy?"

"Admit it, you're glad we came. You're enjoying a night off, hanging with Ken and Barbie," he pressed, knowing his brother wouldn't admit it anyway.

"Hey!" he heard Alex scold him sharply as she appeared behind him suddenly and slid into her seat. "That's Malibu Barbie to you, Chewbacca."

Sam's eyes widened in amazement and annoyance at how his brother could call these two every name in the book but the one time he did it he got busted. Dean laughed. "Well, Malibu Ken is waiting for me to kick his ass again, so you kids behave."

Alex looked at Sam with a mischievous look. "If they're gonna play pool all night, we're gonna do some shots."

Josh actually won his next three games, Dean having scratched on the eight ball in the first game and the next two challengers not having the skills to beat the guy they thought would be an easy mark. After losing his fourth, however, the elder siblings decided to sit it out for a while.

"Seriously, you could hustle full time. You'd be almost as good as Sammy," Dean was saying as they came back to an empty table. "You got that pansy ass pretty boy thing going so all the tough guys think they can take you and they're literally fighting in line to put their money on the table. I can beat Sam at pool most days but he makes twice as much as me when we hustle, every time."

"Gee, thanks, I think," Josh laughed, giving a wink to the tall brunette that had been making eyes at him over at the pool table. "I am so taking that home tonight," he said to Dean in a low voice.

Dean snorted at the ambitious notion. "Way outta your league man." His eyes shifted a bit farther down the bar. "Hey," he accused, frowning as he looked caught sight of Sam and Alex. "Your sister is corrupting my little brother."

Josh followed his gaze in time to see both Sam and Alex throw back a shot, each slamming the shot glass on the bar next to a line of empty ones. "Oh great," he rolled his eyes. "Looks like I'm driving."

Dean didn't look overly happy.

"Don't worry," Josh laughed. "Big boy like Sam, she'll be well past her limit by the time he even catches a buzz."

"Oh you don't know Sam," Dean shook his head. "He's a lightweight. And he gets sorta glum when he drinks."

The younger pair came laughing back to the table. "Our song is playing!" Alex grinned at the older brothers, obviously starting to feel the effects of the liquor. "_I shot the Sheriff_," she sang along to the chorus. "Come on Sam, join in."

Sam's smile faded slightly as he sat down. "We shouldn't laugh," he slurred. "People did die, you know."

"Hey!" Alex punched him in the arm. "Remember our deal!"

Sam grinned. "Right. You won't call me Sammy and, uh, uh, oh yeah, no brooding."

"Dean, you're brother may be a lean, mean, hunting machine, but he's a total lightweight," she laughed, as it was becoming increasingly obvious how drunk Sam really was.

The four sat down at the table and spent the next few minutes teasing Sam. The opening beat of Radar Love by Golden Earring rose from the jukebox and Alex cheered. "Yes!" She stood up and looked over at Dean. "Come on, let's dance!"

A loud guffaw escaped Sam and Dean didn't budge. "Uh, that is so not gonna happen!" Dean replied.

"So I guess _anything_ is totally out the window huh?" Sam slurred to Dean with a laugh.

"_Private conversation Sammy_!" Dean whispered sternly through slightly gritted teeth, hoping his brother wasn't drunk enough to spill about his lewd remarks when they had first met the Brentons.

Alex looked to her brother, who immediately raised his hands in the air and shook his head. "No way, don't look at me! Take Junior here!" he pointed to Sam, who had a goofy smile and a glazed look on his face.

She looked guiltily at Josh and Dean. "I was a little worried about my toes," she mouthed over Sam's head, "but if you two won't oblige…" She grabbed Sam's hand. "Come on drunk-boy!"

Sam shrugged and followed the blonde obediently to the dance floor, a slight stagger to his walk.

Watching them go, Josh turned to Dean. "Wow," was all he said, a disbelieving grin on his face. "He's not much of a drinker, huh?"

Dean turned his hands up and shrugged. "I know, I know," he agreed, shaking his head and muttering about tarnishing the Winchester name.

Alex and Sam spent the next few songs on the dance floor. Dean was being relatively subtle, but he couldn't help watching her move to the music and almost felt jealous of Sam, although her moves were completely wasted on his brother in his current state.

"My sister seems to have taken a liking to your brother," Josh grinned, glancing over at the pair laughing on the dance floor.

"Oh?" Dean raised his eyebrows. It would probably do Sam good to get laid.

"Not in that way," Josh laughed. "Bit of a fellow freak thing, I think."

"My brother's not a freak," Dean snapped, harsher than he had intended.

Josh looked him in the eye and held his gaze. "Neither's my sister, but try telling them that."

Dean saw his point. Sam had been trying to fit in and be normal his whole life, his hunting lifestyle and upbringing having made it difficult. Then, when the death visions started, he had felt even more like a freak. Now, with this whole demon blood thing and these new powers, the kid didn't really stand a chance. Dean knew they were going to have to have another heartfelt girly conversation about what Sam had revealed in the bathroom last night, but he wanted a few days to process the information himself first.

Josh managed to get the brunette he was after over to the table for while but wasn't able to 'seal the deal' (as Dean put it) because on her way back from a trip to the ladies room she was distracted by a biker at the bar and eagerly hopped on the barstool next to him instead.

Dean laughed. "Give up, go for an easier mark. That redhead looks like she digs you."

"Yeah but I liked the brunette," Josh replied, deep in thought.

"Not gonna happen. I tell you what, you get the brunette to leave with you tonight and you can have your Desert Eagle back," he teased, thinking Josh didn't have a chance.

Josh loved a challenge. "It's on. You forget, I got a secret weapon, dude. It's time to bring out the big guns."

"Secret weapon?" Dean raised his eyebrows. Josh turned to the dance floor, looking for his sister. He spotted her when she let out a squeal as Sam lifted her off her feet and spun her around, her arms around his neck. He put her back down a little less than gently and laughed a slurred apology as he swayed slightly on his feet.

"Lexie!" Josh called over, waving for them to come over. "My secret weapon," he grinned with a twitch of an eyebrow to Dean. Still laughing, the intoxicated pair returned to the table, dropping heavily down in their chairs.

"What's up?" Alex asked her brother, picking at the bandages on her hands.

"I need your help," Josh grinned, looking pointedly over at the brunette. Alex turned to follow his gaze.

"Awww, you've got two dudes with you tonight, Big Bro," she whined. "Can't Dean be your wingman?" She gave the elder Winchester a nudge with her elbow. "Something tells me he'd be pretty good at it."

Josh shook his head. "Naah, she's playing hard to get. I need the guitars."

Alex sighed and rolled her eyes. "And J-dog is back," she said, shaking her head. "You are such a manwhore!" She got up to leave the table. "Give me two minutes," she added with a wink as she headed towards the band.

"What's that all about?" Dean asked, amused and curious. "Are you telling me your sister is gonna help you get laid?"

Josh grinned. "She's family. She'd do anything for her big brother."

"See Sam, now that's how it should be. You should be ashamed, man. A chick is being a better wingman that you," Dean teased his brother.

"Who's J-dog?" Sam asked, trying to keep his focus, ignoring Dean's comment.

"That was my nickname back in California," Josh grinned. "Back in my surfing days, I'd whip out the old guitar around the beach campfire and the ladies would circle like moths to a flame."

"You should learn how to play the guitar, Dean," Sam said with a lopsided grin.

"I don't need to," Dean replied. "My natural charm and good looks are enough."

Sam snorted. "Then I should learn how to play the guitar," he laughed.

"Would you even know what to do with the moth once you got it?" Josh teased.

The song on the jukebox ended and the singer of the band that had been setting up on stage spoke into the microphone. "Before we get started tonight, my new friend Alex here is going to warm you up a little by singing you a couple songs with her brother," he announced.

"Oh, that's my cue," Josh jumped up and headed over to Alex, who was looping a guitar strap over her head and taking a seat on the tiny bar stage next to the microphone.

"Oh, great, karaoke!" Sam grinned, seeing her and Josh, now both with guitars.

Dean couldn't help but laugh. He had seldom seen Sam drunk but this was the first time the kid seemed to be enjoying himself under the influence. It was somewhat of a welcome relief to the stress they had both been under recently. Even Sam needed to let loose once in a while, Dean figured. He turned his attention to the stage as the pair started playing and Josh started singing a grudgingly impressive version of Tom Petty's _Won't Back Down_ with Alex providing backing vocals.

"These two are even crazier than us," Sam laughed, finishing off his beer. To Dean's surprise, the brunette at the bar, Sonja, now had her eyes glued to Josh, virtually ignoring the guy sitting next to her who had been buying her drinks. _Damn, the guitar thing really did work._

Josh knew his plan was foolproof. He had used it a couple of times before and it had yet to fail him. It called for three songs, a lively one, one by his sister since he always scored points for the big brother routine, and one sung straight to the lady of choice, never breaking eye contact. Lexie always wanted to skip part two, her solo, this time claiming the bar was too busy for her liking but he had talked her into it, like he always managed to do.

Dean was surprised when Alex took the lead for the second song, Fleetwood Mac's _Landslide, _and found his eyes and ears glued to the stage as she sang. She sang a very heartfelt version and he found himself actually quite moved by it. Of course, those legs didn't hurt. Halfway through the song, Sam grinned over at him. "Guess men can be moths too, huh?" he slurred. "To a flame."

"What? Whatever," Dean scoffed, sitting back in his chair, trying to look casual.

Sam looked thoughtful, exaggeratedly so due to the liquor, brow deeply furrowed and eyes squinting as he watched the two on the small stage. "You know what, Dean?" he said, finally. "We should be more like them, do what they do."

"Who, Donnie and Marie up there?" Dean looked surprised. "Have you heard yourself sing, Sam?"

Sam laughed. "No, shtoopid. Not sing. I mean, live like they do. Their lives are pretty screwed up, they don't have any other family or friends, but they do stuff."

"Do stuff?" Dean wasn't sure what his drunk brother was getting at.

"Yeah, like go see the Alqueburquie balloon party, and stop at interesting mu-museums. Have fun. We don't anymore. We jusht go from hunt to hunt and drive right on by everything."

Despite the slurring, Dean started to understand where this was going. "Okay, Francis. If you want to take a museum tour of the Midwest, you're on your own."

"But they're happy," Sam argued.

Dean looked at the stage, not sure how Sam was interpreting what he saw as happy. Sure the Brentons joked around a lot, but underneath it all, what he was seeing right now was probably a lot closer to the truth. Josh, clearly having forgotten about the brunette for the moment, was accompanying his sister for the tender song, watching her with complete adoration and a deep sadness in his blue eyes. He wanted a normal, carefree life but wasn't willing to give up the little sister he loved more than anything in the world to get it, so he went without. As for Alex, she sang most of the song with her eyes closed or looking down, not wanting anyone to get a glimpse of any emotion the singing may betray. She basically lived for her brother, guilt-ridden over what she had cost him and not daring to want anything for herself, not that she thought she deserved it anyway. Dean was pretty good at reading people and although these two may seem to make the most of things, there was a lot of hurt and guilt beneath the surface. _Same as the Winchester brothers_, he thought ruefully.

"Sure, Sam. They're happy," he said quietly, not bothering to argue.

The main reason Dean had shown up at this bar tonight instead of moving on like he usually did after a hunt was because he planned on forcing the stubborn Brentons to spill every detail they had on this red-eyed demon of theirs so he could gank it. When he began to have fun and see everyone relax, he pushed it off until tomorrow, but it was definitely something that needed done. He didn't see a way out of this nightmare for him and Sam, but the likeable pair he considered friends were just one dead fugly away from peace.

Josh chose Tesla's _Love Song_ for his third song and sang it directly to the brunette as if she was the only one in the room. Dean laughed out loud when he noticed her practically swooning as the blond man sang and realized he would indeed have to give up his newly acquired Desert Eagle.

The rest of the crowd clapped politely as they finished and the band took over the stage. Alex came back to the table first, seeming a bit embarrassed.

"You were really good," Sam managed with only minimal slurring, sounding quite sincere.

"What, no Nazareth songs, Sunshine?" Dean quipped, wondering as her cheeks turned pink again just how much more mileage he could get out of that one.

Within minutes, Josh had escorted Sonja back to the table and the five of them relaxed for the next couple of hours, enjoying chatting about everything _except_ hunting as they now had an outsider with them. Alex promised not to give Sam any more shots and kept her word, though Sam kept a nice buzz going with the beer. Dean found himself more relaxed than he had been in well over a year. He found himself enjoying the rare chance to just sit around and chat with people as himself, Dean Winchester. Not Dean the FBI agent, Dean the police detective, Dean the Wildlife Control Agent, or even Dean the TV producer, an identity he saved for the _particularly_ attractive ladies in the bars. No right now, he was as close to normal as he had felt in a while, forgetting for a brief time about the demons and the angels and the sixty-six seals on the Devil's prison.

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

It was a cooler night than the previous nights in Indiana had been as the group stepped out of the bar into the parking lot but the chill in the air went unnoticed amidst the laughter. Josh came out first, his arm and his jacket draped around Sonja. Dean and Alex followed behind with Sam staggering along between them.

"Uh, looks like Josh is gonna want some privacy at the apartment," she said to the Winchesters. "You guys mind if I hang out with you for a couple of hours?"

Sam was first to reply. "Of course. We have a room at the place next door. You're lucky. Dean always makes me hang out in the car while he entertains." Sam earned himself a slap on the back of the head courtesy of his brother for that comment.

Josh turned to face them. "Uh, Lexie, you mind if…"

"We got it," Dean answered, giving Josh a go-ahead wave.

"You still have a certain object that needs to be returned to me," the blond man grinned, happy that he had won back his favourite firearm. "Do me a favour, bro. Make sure my sister gets home?"

Dean grinned at the irony. He didn't remember a time when any guy had ever trusted him alone with their sister, never mind asking him to get her home. "Yeah, I'll drive her over in a couple of hours," he offered.

"Okay, I'll see you then," Josh said as he turned to head towards the Bronco, pleased he didn't have to say goodbye to the Winchesters just yet.

Alex was working on fastening the buttons on her jacket when she felt him. That familiar but terrifying chill that started on the outside but quickly slammed its way through her brain, making her heart skip a beat. "Josh!" she cried, stopping him in his tracks as he walked away.

He spun on his heel, his eyes searching out his sister, alarms in his head ringing at the fear and panic he had heard in her voice.

Dean had also looked sharply over to Alex when she had cried out, instinctively taking a step towards her. She was moving backwards slowly, looking wildly around as if searching for something, but as far as Dean could tell, she wasn't in any immediate danger.

"Lexie?" Josh called back, his arm leaving the brunette's shoulders as he ran a few steps back towards his sister. "Is it him?" he demanded.

Alex just nodded, half apologetic, half terrified.

"I'll get the car." He turned and raced across the parking lot towards the Bronco, never sparing so much as a glance at the Winchesters or Sonja, who was standing in the middle of the driveway looking totally confused.

"Is it your demon?" Dean asked Alex, kicking into hunter mode instantly. His hand automatically slipped inside his jacket and wrapped around the hilt of the silver knife he had there. He stepped in front of Alex, eyes searching for any sign of a black, shadowy demon with red eyes. But he saw nothing.

"He's coming, but he's not here yet," Alex assured him. "He might not show up right now in public, but once he's found me it's really hard to shake him," she explained. She stepped quickly around Dean, heading towards the approaching Bronco. "I'm sorry, I have to leave," she said as she passed him. She was a few steps away before she turned and ran back, throwing her arms around the eldest Winchester's neck. "Take care, Dean," she whispered in his ear, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to Sam and doing the same. By now, Josh had skidded the SUV to a halt in front of them. Alex turned again and ran around towards the passenger door.

Josh unrolled his driver's window as he waited for her to get in. He looked at Dean with a nod, "Later, Dean. Be Careful." He then turned to Sam, who looked like he was still trying to figure out what was going on. Pointing at the youngest Winchester, Josh managed a grin. "Stay Gold, Ponyboy," he called as Alex's door slammed shut and the Bronco pulled out of the parking lot, screeching its tires on the pavement of the road as it sped away.

Dean and Sam stared after it for a second, still taking in how quickly things had changed. "Humph," was all Dean said as he put his hands in his pockets and started towards the motel next door. Suddenly, just like that, he found himself back in the hunting life again. A life where monsters were real, where people got scared and hurt, where Sam was always in danger, and where people you stupidly let yourself start to care about drove off and out of your life in their SUV, just like that.

Sam hurried to catch up with his brother. "You wanna tell me what jusht happened?" he asked. "I didn't see a demon, I still don't. And what did he mean by Ponyboy?"

Dean smiled at the faith in his brother's goodness that last comment had implied. He found himself slightly taken aback at the realization of how much he actually liked the pair that had just left. Both of them. They were far from normal civilians, but they weren't quite like the hardened, jaded hunters he knew either. Both of them knew more about Sam than people that had known the Winchesters a long time, yet they had never doubted him.

"Is he coming back?" the brunette aimed her question at Dean as they passed her, still standing in the empty gravel parking lot wearing Josh's jacket.

"No, sorry." Dean told her. "Family emergency."

She looked a bit worried. "He was my ride. What am I supposed to do now?" she asked, again looking straight at Dean.

Dean shrugged. _Why the Hell not?_ "I got a room next door if you want to come warm up," he suggested, ignoring the noisy huff of disapproval Sam let out behind him.

Sonja pretended to take a minute to contemplate whether or not she should take Dean up on his offer before smiling and hooking her arm through his. Dean dug his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Sam, who was still walking along behind them. In reply to his little brother's questioning look, Dean explained "You may have to start her up if you get too cold."

**SPN-SPN-SPN**

_**TBC...**_

_Lol, couldn't go a whole story without Dean getting laid, could I? Just a short epilogue to come that will be up tomorrow then the sequel. Hope you stay tuned!_


	16. Epilogue

_This is the last chapter in the first story of this trilogy. It was the first story I ever wrote so I know it has flaws in pacing and bits that drag and since it is introducing the two OC's, it has a lot of their backstory but hopefully if you have read this far, you liked it enough to continue on to the second story. Once part 2 gets going, it has more violence, more angst, more twists, higher stakes, more hurt!Dean, more angsty!Sam, a little iddy bit of romance, mission-minded Cas, manipulative Ruby, sassy Pamela, and a ton of awesome Bobby. _

**Chapter 16 - Epilogue**

By eight o'clock the next morning, Dean and Sam were sailing eastward along Highway 70 towards Pennsylvania. They had both been fairly quiet all morning and Dean's suggestion to stop for an early lunch were the first words spoken in over an hour.

"What do you think?" Dean asked, eyeing his brother carefully. "Should we find somewhere at the next exit? I'm sure there's a diner that'll serve greasy pork chops in dirty ashtrays."

"I'm not that hungover, Dean," Sam insisted, managing a decent smile as attempted proof.

Dean pouted, feeling robbed of the rare pleasure of teasing his brother the day after he had tied one on. "What good is it for you to get drunk if I don't get to enjoy your hangover?" he griped.

Sam laughed. "Sorry to disappoint."

"That's okay. I still have the dancing to use against you."

Sam cringed. "That was Alex's fault."

"Oh," Dean laughed, "Lex _made_ you do the Robot did she?"

"I did not do the Robot!" Sam denied, uncertainly. "At least, I hope I didn't."

Dean would neither confirm nor deny and shook his head and clucked in mock disapproval. Oh, he was going to get good mileage out of this one.

"I can't believe they ditched their phones already," Sam said in an effort to change the subject. The brothers had tried to call Josh and Alex last night and again this morning but both their cell phones had been disconnected.

"I know, damnit," Dean agreed. "How we supposed to let them know when we gank this Red-Eyes if we can't call them?"

Sam gave him a skeptical look. "Dean, we gave Bobby all the information we had and it's not exactly much to go on."

"No shit. Barbie and Ken were seriously tight-lipped about him," Dean groused, not liking the odds and wishing he had gone with the pair last night when they took off. It hadn't occurred to him they would cut him off and had assumed they would eventually trust him enough to spill what they knew and allow him and Sam to go after Red-Eyes. He had thought they had formed a genuine friendship, even if he had only known them a few days. Guess he was getting a taste of his own medicine - usually it was him who disappeared.

"Where do you think they're headed?" Sam wondered aloud.

Dean shrugged. "Could be anywhere. Josh told me they've lived in over twenty states in the past seven years."

"I bet he'd be pissed if he realized you ended up with his gun and his girl," Sam chuckled. "Think they'll call?"

"Nah."

"You don't? Why not?"

"'Cause when you move around a lot, you can't keep in touch with everybody you meet," Dean answered, matter-of-factly. "They live like us. We roll into town, save the day, and roll out. They set up shop somewhere, spend a little time with the locals, then move on. That's how it works. Don't get your hopes up about ever seeing them again."

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine today?" Sam huffed. But his brother did have a point. They met a lot of people during their hunts, but had very few lasting friendships to show for it. People always promised to call and keep in touch, but after their lives returned to normal, Sam and Dean just became reminders of a bad and usually scary time and most people decided to move on and seemed to forget the brothers. "I thought you liked them," he accused.

"I did," Dean admitted. "But we can't afford to get attached to anybody. Our friends don't have a very promising survival rate."

Sam gave his brother an incredulous stare. "Are you're saying we can't have friends because we'll get them killed?"

"That about sums it up," the older Winchester nodded.

"You can't go through life not caring about anybody, Dean." Sam didn't like the turn this conversation was taking. "And what about Bobby? We don't give him a wide berth."

"Bobby's family, that's different," Dean retorted.

"What about a girl?" Sam pressed. "Eventually you're gonna find one that can put up with you for more than a day and a half. You can't spend the rest of your life alone."

"Hey," Dean smirked. "I meet lots of girls. Unlike you, Sammy, I don't always sleep alone."

"That's not what I meant. You can't have one night stands for the rest of your life, dude. Eventually your looks will go and you'll just be a dirty old man." Sam didn't like the thought of Dean always being alone. Sure for now they had each other, but eventually, Sam was still hoping to get through all this demon madness and maybe, just maybe, settle down somewhere with a nice girl and live a peaceful life. He hadn't completely given up on that idea. Not yet. Ignoring Dean's snort, he pushed "What about if you fall in love?"

"Love?" Dean snorted, barely suppressing a laugh. "Are you shittin' me Sam? I can't afford to fall in love. I got a full time job looking after you, if I loved somebody else like..." He let the sentence trail off. "I couldn't watch out for two people, I just don't have it in me." The last sentence was spoken quietly, more than a hint of tiredness in his voice.

"Stop putting that on me!" Sam said, not wanting any more guilt for his brother's pain. "I'm not a kid anymore, Dean. You gotta get that through your head. Nobody expects you to look out for me forever, you know, least of all me."

Dean sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you? You're my little brother, I'll always look out for you. It's my job."

"Yeah, well, that goes two ways."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them as they each looked out the window, glad to have spoken the last words to each other but wishing admitting it didn't feel so awkward. Eventually, Sam smiled and looked over at his brother. "Dude, you just totally said the L word; you said you loved me."

Dean snorted. "Did not," he said, trying to hide a grin.

"Oh yes you did."

"Whatever, bitch."

"Jerk."

And just like that, the awkwardness was lifted, both finding comfort in the mere presence of the other and the familiar throaty purr of the Impala as she slid down the off ramp in search of lunch.

_**-THE END-**_

_Well, not really 'the end'. I also just posted the first chapter of the sequel, which is called **Going Vader **and is my version of why Sam crosses that line and takes his first sip of demon blood. It takes place about 3 months down the road when Cas sends Dean on a mission for the angels at the same time Josh calls Dean needing a favour. _

_If you liked this fic, I think (hope) you will enjoy the next one even more and the third one the best. No matter what you thought, I would love to hear from you. Thank-you for the faves and the alerts and the reviews - you are all awesome! Thanks so much for reading!_


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